


To Find Another World

by ThornWolfy235



Category: Steam Powered Giraffe, Werewolf: The Apocalypse
Genre: Alternate Universe-ish, Angst, Gen, No Romance but Feels, Potentially Graphic Violence, SPG Robots Will Be Sparse Until Later, original character deaths, some strong language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-07-28 07:50:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16237313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThornWolfy235/pseuds/ThornWolfy235
Summary: Inspired by Clockworkcreation's and simpleEnthusiast's writings. If you haven't read them, this will make no sense and also be super spoilery.The Du Franks' collection held many strange creatures and mythical beasts. While some who were aware of it turned a blind eye, there were others who tried to make a stand. One of its survivors tells her story to a golden automaton.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [New to the Collection](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14350365) by [Clockworkcreation](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clockworkcreation/pseuds/Clockworkcreation). 



> So this story is the product of reading too much fanfiction while trying to set up a Werewolf campaign. 
> 
> I had been rereading Clockworkcreation’s “New to the Collection” and the sequels written in conjunction with simpleEnthusiast, and then the plot bunnies in my brain said, “Hey, I wonder what other critters were in the collection. Hey, what about werewolves? Hey, instead of setting up the campaign you’ve been working on for your friends, how about you write this story instead?” And the plot bunnies haven’t left me alone since. So here we are now. I tried to wait until their third story (“Restitution”) was completed, but I just got up the nerve to try posting this and I knew if I waited, I’d lose that nerve.
> 
> For the uninitiated, Werewolf: The Apocalypse is a tabletop RPG published by White Wolf, sort of like Dungeons & Dragons, but set in modern times or slightly in the future where the players are werewolves or some other form of shapeshifter (weretigers, werebears, wereravens, etc.) fighting against forces bent on destroying Gaia. They may seem heroic, but they are still monsters by nature, which leads to some really interesting storytelling and character development in play.
> 
> For those who are well-versed in the world of W:TA, I know I will get something wrong in all of this. Probably multiple somethings. There’s over 100 play-manuals, not including revised and second edition books plus a handful of novels and comic books, and we’re not even getting into the connected universes through the other RPGs White Wolf has published. I have five of those manuals and two manuals from their other games, and even those I haven’t read every single word in. It is inevitable I will have misinterpreted, forgotten, or be just plain unaware of something. I will also be leaning heavily on the old Storyteller/Game Master mantra “Keep what you like, change what you don’t.” That being said, I apologize in advance for anything I get egregiously wrong. 
> 
> And for those who are here because this is within the universe set up by CC and SE, I will do my best to explain things as succinctly as possible. I won’t be offended if you need to ask me some questions within the comments, and if you need a glossary dropped someplace, I’ll throw one together. I also apologize that there will be a lack of robots until later on in the story.
> 
> And yes, I totally took the story title from a lyric in “Scary World.”

The last orange tinges of the sky were beginning to fade as the ducks of the Walter Manor pond began making their way to their nests for the night. The bushes nearby rustled, causing several to pause, wondering if it was danger or just another human or robot with food for them. One of them, a little female with an odd wing, actually approached the bush that trembled. A nose poked through the brush, followed by lithe-bodied red wolf. Several ducks backed away from it, though not very hurriedly, mostly just giving it a respectable amount of space instead of fleeing in fear. Most simply ignored it. They had gotten used to this wolf’s presence and knew it held no ill will towards any of them. Or at least it hadn’t attempted to hunt them yet, which was good enough. The flightless duck continued towards the wolf, who politely dipped its head, ears and tail held relaxed, and let the little bird nibble at its muzzle. Satisfied by the greeting, the duck waddled back towards her flock, and the wolf approached the pond to take a drink.

While wild red wolves were very rare at best and certainly not found in California, this one’s coloring was similar enough to a coyote that so long as no one looked close enough, they would merely think it to be a large member of the species. This had kept it out of trouble and allowed it to continue to observe the residents of Walter Manor in secret. The one time that the human male with the long hair had caught sight of it, he had assumed the canine was scavenging through the garbage cans looking for food. In truth, the wolf had been beneath an open window listening to a conversation from within the manor. The human male had gone inside briefly and returned with several scraps of food which he threw to it before chasing it away. The wolf took no offence to this, knowing the human was watching out for his family but clearly also felt some pity for the poor, starving animal. It was an act the wolf had put on for him, and was something it was quite good at. Pretending to be a harmless creature also had helped it out of a few scrapes. 

The wolf paused lapping at the water to gaze at the building. Light shone from some of the windows, and if it listened closely enough, it could hear muffled voices, though not clearly enough to tell words, just tone. Perhaps someone had left a window open while the inhabitants were eating their evening meal. A quick sniff of the air confirmed this. The wind picked up slightly, causing the newest flora of their gardens to start making their humming songs and drowning out what little it could hear of the humans. The wolf nodded in satisfaction. All was well.

As it lowered its head back down to the pond, it caught sight of its reflection, its odd yellow-green eyes the only thing marking it as not wholly natural. A sudden wave of dizziness overtook the wolf. It squeezed its eyes shut, waiting for the feeling to pass. The sound of the flowers increased, as though there were more, and the scents weaving around it changed. The wolf sighed heavily. It knew what had happened, and was irritated by it.

Lifting its head away from the water, it opened its eyes. The sky was now bright with midday sunshine, wind flowing through the field of the strange flowers that the wolf and the pond were now in, all making their cheery music. Off in the distance, the wolf could just barely see the top of a bell tower. If there were any buildings beneath the tower, they were obscured by a forest. The wolf sniffed the air, but it was upwind of the tower. It wouldn’t get any hints that way.

A flash of light caught the wolf’s attention. A humanoid form had emerged from the treeline. The wolf lowered itself down into the grass and watched the figure approach. Its movements were odd, a little stiff and jaunty. It reminded the wolf of the way the silver robot moved. This one, however, was smaller and not so lanky, and appeared to be...skipping? The flash the wolf had seen was sunlight being reflected off of golden metal. The wolf watched nervously as the entity came straight towards it. It knew it had been seen, and reluctantly stood back up. 

The golden robot waved happily as the wolf stood, blue eyes shining from beneath golden curls and a feathered hat. “Hullo there! You must be new here! Welcome, welcome!” he called. The wolf tilted its head. It was being addressed as though it was human. He stopped, his own head tilting in confusion. “Why are you hiding like that? Not that your fur isn’t beautiful, but I’d like to talk to you.”

Ah, that explained his reaction. The wolf’s lips peeled back in a canine grin, closed its eyes, and shifted. Ruddy fur gave way to tanned skin, paws became hands and feet. A woman appearing to be in her late twenties or early thirties stood where the wolf did, round face framed by thick hair the color of dark chocolate, dressed simply in shorts and a t-shirt. Her eyes opened, color also having changed to blue hazel, and she smiled at the robot. “What manner of spirit is able to see through a werewolf’s disguise?” she asked, her tone carefully trained to be confident without being haughty. As calm as she kept most of her body-language, she couldn’t help but dig her bare toes into the grass in preparation of fleeing at the first sign of trouble. She didn't want to fight, especially on such unfamiliar turf.

“Spirit? I don’t think I’m one. My name is The Jon.” The mechanical man doffed his hat and bowed deeply. 

“Well, The Jon, where are we?” The werewolf kept her face as pleasantly neutral as she could, hoping she had hidden how puzzled she was. This was not the response she had been expecting.

“We’re in Kazooland, on the continent of New Pieland, and just on the outskirts of Biscuit Town.” The Jon ran his hands up his red suspenders. “And I’m the mayor,” he said proudly. “What’s your name?”

But she had turned away from him, muttering under her breath. “How? How? This doesn’t make sense. Unless...The Dreaming? No, no...doesn’t feel right...”

“Hey, what’s the matter?” The Jon reached out and touched her shoulder. The woman flinched and her head snapped around to stare at his hand, but she made no move to get away. Since she didn't protest either, The Jon left his hand there. "Did you get lost or somethin’?”

She took a breath, steadying herself. “Or something.” 

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked, voice quiet and sweet.

She met his crystalline blue eyes (or optics or whatever they were; she was terrible with technology) and offered a small smile. “I suppose that since I am here, I am meant to. You asked my name. Which would you prefer, my wolf or my human one?”

“You get two names?” The Jon asked, plopping down on the grassy carpet, looking up at her expectantly. “That sounds cool, but kinda confusing too.”

She laughed and sat as well. “To some it can be very confusing. The number of names is the choice of the garou, the werewolf, in question. But yes, I have two. I was born a wolf, and my mother named me Night-of-Song. After I went through the First Change, I decided I’d need a human name to help me disguise myself, and remind me to, shall we say, stay in char-”

“Were your parents werewolves too? And did you have siblings too? Are they werewolves?” The Jon broke in. It seemed interruptions were something she was going to have to get used to. If another garou had been the one interrupting her, she’d have put him in his place, but it didn’t bother her coming from an outsider. He knew nothing of her world, after all. 

“My mother was. My father was a plain, ordinary red wolf. And of my brothers and sisters, I was the only one the garou blood woke in. After that, my mother took me to the local sept of the Tribe she was trained by, but went back to her mate. She preferred that life.”

That seemed to sadden the robot. “That sounds so lonely, to not be with your family. I have three brothers and a sister, but I had to leave them behind. I miss them all, but I especially miss The Spine and Rabbit.” 

So he was related to the silver robot. And there was a female one? That must be the one she had seen by the duck pond. That particular robot was also the reason that duck was strictly off the menu, and if her name was ‘Rabbit,’ maybe she should refrain from eating them and hares as well…

The werewolf, after some hesitation, patted his knee in what she hoped was a comforting manner. “I miss my birth family, but my mother’s Tribe was good to me, and I used to visit her and her pack often.”

“Used to?” The Jon repeated.

She bit her lip. “Werewolves...can be long-lived,” she said, hoping she didn’t have to spell it out for the golden automaton. She saw his optics widen in understanding. “But it’s okay,” she added quickly. “They lived good, long lives.”

He nodded, looking down. “Robots live longer than humans...Pappy and Ma and a lot of other humans had to leave us behind...”

She couldn’t stand his somber tone. It seemed wrong coming from what seemed to be a naturally sprightly being. “Hey, I never told you the name I gave my human self.”

The distraction worked. “What was it?” He leaned forward eagerly. 

She grinned mischievously. “Paige Turner.”

The Jon gawked at her a second before laughing. “That’s a good pun! Rabbit...” He suddenly sobered. “Rabbit likes puns.” He seemed to push his sadness away, looking back at her with renewed interest. “Why did you pick that?”

“It fit with who I am. I was born under a gibbous moon, marking me as a Galliard, storyteller, lore keeper, and singer. We entertain as much as we teach, and we keep the old legends alive. And with any book referred to as a ‘page-turner,’ I try to leave my audience wanting more.”

“Is that why you think you’re here? To tell a story?” He propped his chin up on his hands and gave her the brightest smile. “I like stories.” 

“Yes. I think I accidentally used that pond there to step sideways to here.” She nodded towards the water before turning back to explain. “Werewolves can slip into the spirit worlds, collectively called the Umbra, to speak with ancestors or deal with spirits or see things in other realms. Reflective surfaces make that much safer and easier to do. And for me, easy enough to do by accident if I’m not careful. It’s not too bad, because I usually end up going where I’m needed or discovering something useful. But I’ve never, ever come across a place like this.” Paige flung her arms out, indicating the world around them. “I don’t know what to make of it. It doesn’t look or feel like anything I’ve even come across before.”

The Jon looked down, and picked at some grass. “I used to live in California with my brothers and friends, but something happened with my Blue Matter core.” He placed a hand over his chest, about where a human heart would be. “It made a void in me, and then I began slipping back and forth between there and here, until I just...stayed here. Maybe all the Blue Matter around the manor has something to do with it?” He looked up at her, looking as excited as if he had just put the final piece of a puzzle into place. “And Hatchworth! He could make blue portals too! It could have changed the way things work there, right?”

“It’s a good theory - Wait, how did you know I was at the manor?”

“Kazooland...overlaps, I think,” The Jon answered, holding out his hands and putting one over the other. “Sometimes, The Spine and Rabbit come and visit my body in my room, and I can hear them talking to me. If I concentrate really hard, I can even see them. They’re a bit...fuzzy, but I can do it. I just can’t seem to go...back.” He shrugged. “It’s just what I think.”

“Your theory seems sound enough. The Umbra is vast enough to hold plenty of mysteries, and sections of it do overlap the mortal realm. Maybe this is some little forgotten piece of it. Though why you can’t return is strange, especially since you had been able to leave before...” 

The Jon suddenly gasped, optics growing round with worry. “What if you can’t go back?”

“I don’t think that will be a problem. I’m used to slipping between worlds. I’m certain I’ll be able to find my way back to my body.” She hoped anyways, but it wouldn’t do to alarm him further. “The biggest worry is if someone finds my body while I’m not in it. With luck, no one will bother me since the area I was in was secluded for the most part. Just the ducks.” She leaned in and whispered, “I’ll bet they’re are taking bits of my fur back to their nests for bedding right now.” He giggled at that. Good, he wasn’t as worried now, she thought with satisfaction. “I must ask, how could you tell I wasn’t just a wolf?”

“I just know things sometimes. I knew things back then too, even if I didn’t know how to explain it.” He put his chin back onto his hands. “So what story do you think were sent here to tell me?”

She looked away then, sadness filling her blue-green eyes. She was silent long enough for the automaton to place a hand on hers. The werewolf hesitated before putting her other hand on his and squeezing it lightly. “I wish I could say it was just one of our legends, or at least something happy, but...I think what I’m meant to tell you is how I ended up watching over Walter Manor.” She paused again. “Did you know that your brother, The...Spine, I think his name is, and his human were kidnapped?”

The Jon’s face suddenly darkened, looking very out of place for him. “Yes. He told me. He said a very bad person had tried to take him and David from the family.” He brightened again. “But everyone worked together and rescued them, and that they’re all safe now.”

Paige smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Yes, they are. And in doing so, they freed many other creatures as well. Some dangerous and scary, others good and kind. And me. I keep watch on them for many reasons. I owe them my freedom, and to hopefully keep anything like that from happening again, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious about them.”

“It sounds like this will be a story of adventure. I like those kinds!” 

He was trying to encourage her, she could tell, but she still couldn’t quite keep the tears from gathering at the edges of her eyes. “There is adventure, and so much bravery, but also great heartache and pain. The ending is...bitter-sweet at best. I hate the thought of coming here, to such a bright cheerful world, to tell such a dark story.”

The Jon took in her pained expression and scooted closer. “Sometimes it helps to let it all out. The Spine used to tell me that after I had nightmares about...” He drifted away, and she could feel him shake slightly next to her. “About the very bad things we saw." He suddenly put his arms around her shoulders, hugging her. "So maybe talking will help you too.” 

Without realizing it, she leaned into his embrace and drank in the comfort of being close to someone, someone that she could feel compassion overflowing from. How long had it been that she had been around someone other than ducks? “Perhaps it will.” She sighed and pulled away, squaring her shoulders. “I must make this a proper telling then.” She stood, took a few steps away from him, and turned back. She called to her magic, and it responded readily, giving her an extra boost of wonderment. She seemed taller, more striking, someone who commanded the undivided attention of her listeners. It was a trick she used often at Tribe and pack gatherings alike to add excitement to her storytelling, and it thrilled her to no end when they gasped in awe, just as The Jon now did. A wild light entered her eyes, and she flung her arms wide. When she spoke next, her tone had deepened theatrically. “I bring you, The Jon, Mayor of Biscuit Town, a tale of courage and woe, of the five wolves captured alongside other creatures of myth, of their triumph and sorrow, and the freedom brought by unwitting humans.”

“And robots!” chimed The Jon, face beaming with excitement.

Paige Turner, Night-of-Song, gave him a genuine smile. “And robots!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side-note: It wasn’t until much later in writing (I’m trying to get most of it done in advance so if I did create a posting schedule, I'd have some leeway before it makes me post) that I remembered about Walter Worker Paige. My Paige has absolutely nothing to do with her. I would change the name, but the pun is just so terrible/perfect that I couldn’t get rid of it. Terribly sorry for the confusion.
> 
> Also, as the author, I know that the robot’s eyes are photoreceptors, but Paige, for all her slinking around the manor, doesn’t know that. Even if she had overheard the word being used, it probably wouldn’t have stuck with her very well. It’s a two-fold problem. Her spying was being done while as the wolf, which doesn’t have the best memory for foreign human-words. Additionally, she was never really that concerned with machines and technology before her time as a part of the collection, and only has a rudimentary knowledge of mechanical terms. While she has become increasingly curious about it all, it’s not like she could just walk up to the front door-frame and say “Hi there, I’d like to learn about absolutely everything that goes on here, if you don’t mind.” (Well, maybe she could, but the wolf is too nervous for that.)


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small heads-up here. You’ll notice that depending on her form, Paige Turner/Night-of-Song thinks of herself differently. This is because her mind has decided that the wolf and the human are different entities. In W:TA, many werewolves that were born as wolves think this way, mainly because the animal mind has a harder time with accepting the sudden entrance of the human. Think of a coin: there’s the face and the reverse, heads and tails. Though they belong to the same thing, you don’t use the same name for both sides. 
> 
> Also, welcome to Exposition: The Chapter. I hope it explains the universe well enough without being too boring. The next one will actually have stuff happening.

Five wolves ran in single file through the forest. Midday sun filtered through the leaves, dappling their coats and the path that seemingly only the lead wolf could see. Of the wolves, only two were of distinguishable species, a red wolf and a Mexican wolf. The rest of the pack simply appeared to be variants of timber wolves to anyone who did not know what they truly were. The lead wolf was a steely gray, his orange eyes fixed firmly ahead. Behind him followed the Mexican and the red wolf. Bringing up the rear were a cream-colored female and a grizzled brown male, his muzzle tinged with silver hairs. 

This was the Night-of-Song’s pack, a Silver Pack, temporary but highly respected and honored pack. The term sent another thrill of excitement through her spine. A Silver Pack was made of wolves from very different walks of life, each one from a different Tribe and born under a different phase of the moon. Members of a Silver Pack were chosen by the spirit of the Phoenix during times of need, and only after they had proved their worth through tests of honor, glory, and wisdom. She felt the tingling warmth of his Mark, a shimmering blue flame, on her left shoulder, a Mark only the other members of the Silver Pack bore. 

The lead wolf suddenly pulled up in a small clearing, swishing his tail to signal the rest to stop and shift. They obeyed him and stood waiting for his commands. “Lily, how close are we now?”

What had been the cream wolf, now a young-looking light brunette woman with blue eyes, pulled a small GPS from her pocket. A useful, if strange, bit of magic that belonged to all of the Changing Breeds was that whatever they wore or carried on their human form simply melded into them when they shifted straight to wolf and reappeared when they returned to a more human shape. No one understood it beyond that it seemed to work via the will of the wearer, and was better left unquestioned. Paige’s personal theory was that their belongings went into a tiny bubble of Umbra that was marked and accessible for them alone, sort of like an astral locker room. 

That being said, none of them carried much more than a few useful tools or items that they could keep on their person, and an amulet that bore the glyph of their Tribes, an honorary gift so they would remember where they had come from and would return to. They had unanimously decided to travel light for this mission, and the belongings of those who had traveled far from home were currently being housed by a nearby pack. They had been pleased that they would be acting as a temporary home base for a Silver Pack and had no qualms about taking care of items that had to be left behind. 

Lily made a pleased noise as she checked the device. “You led straight and true, Owen. The perimeter wall of the estate is less than half a mile from here.”

“Then we’ve arrived.” His voice was tinged by a Welsh accent. “As you know, all the tribes from across the globe have been reporting creatures of all manner suddenly vanishing. That in of itself is disturbing, but when a member of the Uktena Tribe tracked one via the Umbra and found those missing creatures were being collected here, at Thornewood Castle, the alarm was raised. That’s why our Pack was formed and why we were sent here. We’re going eliminate any dangerous creatures, free the rest, and to put an end to these captures.” 

His moss green eyes pierced each of them, and each nodded solemnly, tension thrumming between them. The task seemed daunting for so few wolves, but they had been chosen for a reason, and they had to trust that decision and each other.

Owen suddenly grinned. “Our objectives don’t need to be completed in that order, of course. But I certainly wouldn’t mind saving whomever is behind this for last so we can...place our focus entirely on them.”

Something about the way he said it seemed to relax the pack. Despite the promise of violence, the playful manner with which he spoke soothed their nerves. Here was an alpha who understood their anger at the upheaval an outsider had caused and would make sure that justice was served. 

“We’ll rest here for now. After sunset, we’ll sneak into the estate under the cover of night. If luck is with us, most of them will be dreaming when we enter. Take down a few guards, and the place is ours,” Owen said. “I’d like to speak with each of you, but if you wish to be alone with your thoughts before our infiltration, I understand.”

The garou split up a little, each finding a comfortable spot to relax in the clearing. The conversation their leader would have with them would not be entirely private. Each ‘wolf would try hard not to eavesdrop, but it was a tricky thing to do with their heightened hearing.

Paige watched Owen Conway as he looked over each of them and nodded. He was a sturdily built man, military-cut russet hair, and defined laugh lines around his mouth and eyes. The Phoenix had chosen a good alpha for them. Born under the full Ahroun moon, he was a warrior through and through, which inspired respect from the rest of the wolves. But they liked him and felt comfortable with him because he was a Fianna, a tribe known for their love of loud songs, strong drinks, and fierce battles. He was a wolf each could find something to connect with him on. It didn’t hurt that this was his third time as a member of a Silver Pack. Though it was his first time leading one, his prior experience put them at ease.

He first approached Lily Martin. The youngest wolf of the pack hailed from Quebec City and was a member of the Glass Walker Tribe, werewolves who had embraced the human world of technology. Her knowledge of what was practically foreign to the rest of them would certainly prove useful. A child of the half moon, a Philodox, she was rational and level-headed, and knew how to diffuse a tense situation before tempers boiled over. 

After finishing with her, Owen moved onto Ray, an older, gruff looking man, his wolf being the brown. His black hair was flecked with white, skin calloused and weather-beaten. Ray was a Bone Gnawer, a wolf of the streets. They could be found scraping out an existence in back alleys and burnt out towns, but their harsh lives gave them a resilience and resourcefulness the other Tribes didn’t have. Being a Ragabash didn’t hurt either. Wolves born beneath the new moon were cunning tricksters, sneaky assassins, and anything in-between. But for all of Ray’s gruffness, he was an honest, loyal wolf, and one that Paige was happy to have with her rather than against her. She knew he was from the Northwestern part of the States, but he did not offer up anything more than that, and no one wanted to pry for information the old man was unwilling to share. 

Ahote Swift-Foot was next, the Mexican wolf and a tall, lean, bronze-skinned man. He was stand-offish but peaceable, as most lone Silent Striders were. Wolves of this Tribe were nomadic, always on the move and never in one place for very long. Their traveling had exposed them to vastly different conditions, making them very adaptable. As such, it was impossible to know just where he came from, but he claimed ancestors from just about every culture, from Egyptian to Hopi. Ahote was born under the crescent Theurge moon, wolves that were healers and also gifted with a heightened ability to commune with spirits and request their aid. He could force them to do his bidding, but refused to do so, saying the willing were much more helpful, and it was more respectful anyways.

After speaking with Owen, Ahote approached Ray. They spoke briefly, then both shifted wolves and trotted off in the direction the pack had been travelling earlier.

That left Night-of-Song, aka Paige Turner, born a red wolf in a wildlife refuge in North Carolina. She was accepted into the Uktena Tribe, sometimes referred to as “Seekers of Secrets.” They poked their noses into every dark hole and dusty book they could find, amassing knowledge on all manner of beast and spirit, and many walked the thin line between Earth and Umbra, slipping back and forth as needed. It would be her job to identify which of the captured creatures were safe to let go, and which had to be destroyed along with whatever fiend thought it was a good idea to put so many powerful monsters in one place. As Galliard, she would also be chronicling their mission, weaving their exploits into a heroic tale should they succeed, or a tragic ballad if they failed. 

“Where are Ahote and Ray off to?” she asked as Owen sat beside her. 

“They wanted to inspect the walls. See if we can scale them later, look for alarms, cameras, barbed wire, the usual stuff. Tell me, have you sensed anything?”

Paige frowned slightly. “I haven’t tried yet. I’m worried about alerting something if I investigate through the Umbra, and we’re still too far away for me to pick anything up on the physical realm. Would you...rather I tried?”

“Yes, I would appreciate it. I’d like to know what to expect.”

She studied him for a moment. “Why did you not tell them that the captive my Tribe-mate tracked was Wyrm-tainted?”

He narrowed his eyes, gaze flicking to Lily. “Not so loud. I am genuinely hoping the Wyrm isn’t mixed up in all of this. I’m hoping that it’s only the one tainted individual we have to worry about. Because if the Wyrm is buried deeper into all of this...” He trailed off, not needing to put voice to his fears. 

The Wyrm and its followers were the greatest threat to the garou, possibly even the world. A spirit of god-like powers, it had once kept balance between the chaos brought by its brother, the Wyld, and the order created by its sister, the Weaver. The Triad of great spirits had been in perfect balance for millennia, until it became corrupted. How this came about differs between lorekeepers. Some believe the Weaver, tired of the Wyrm destroying her creations, attempted to trap both it and the Wyld’s chaos in her webs. While the Wyld would not be tamed, the Wyrm was driven mad and now destroyed everything in its path, corrupting those it left alive to do its bidding. Others say the Wyrm allowed itself to be caught deliberately so that it could whisper lies to the Weaver and twist her into a jealous, mad creature that the Wyrm could then feed off of. Either way, the joining of the two spirits creates twisted monsters, human and otherwise, that threatens to overrun the Wyld and destroy Gaia. The Changing Breeds fight against the Wyrm and its corruption, warring to protect Mother Earth. 

It was a war they were losing. 

If servants of the Wyrm were gathering powerful creatures here to corrupt them and then release them into the world, things would become so much worse for all involved. Paige secretly hoped that this collection was nothing more than some fool’s greed, and now she knew that Owen felt the same. 

His tone softened. “It’s why I’d like you to scout through the Umbra. I don’t want to send the pack into a frenzy if there is no affiliation. But if there is, I want us to be ready.” 

She sighed heavily and tried to suppress the shiver that went through her. “Very well. You’ll watch over my body, see that I’m not disturbed?”

“Of course.” He placed a large hand on her shoulder, the touch comforting her, reminding her to put her trust in her alpha.

Paige reached into her own back and pulled out a compact mirror. Shutting her eyes, she steadied her breathing as she opened it. Once she was certain she had herself calm and collected, she gazed into the reflective glass and let herself slip from her body and through the mirror.

Slipping from her physical form into the spirit realm was almost a relief for Night-of-Song. There was a moment of peace, where her mind went empty and all the worries of the world fell away. She shook the last tingles of the travel from her fur as she opened her eyes. She was always entered the Umbra as a wolf, no matter what shape the made the travel in. She supposed it had something to do with her being born a canine, not that it bothered her. She was more comfortable in as a wolf. 

She had made sure to stay near the thin line separating the material world from the first layer of the Umbra, as being able to see reality would assist her in her search. Even so, the world looked so much different from within the Penumbra. The trees were suddenly so much taller, and any space between them seemed to be filled with life. However, there were thick strands of rope here and there, coming from the direction that she assumed Ray and Ahote had gone off in. After searching a moment, she found Owen. True to his word, he remained seated next to her now slumped body. He was speaking with Lily, though their voices sounded like they were coming from underwater. 

Her spirit flowed like water through the trees. She saw Swift-Foot and Ray inspecting a wall covered in more rope, or at least in the Penumbra it was. The strands now looked like the spider webs that were the evidence of the Weaver’s work. She was glad they were checking it over to traps and the like. It was harder for her to notice such details on this side; material dangers were often hidden beneath the webs.

She soared over the wall, sailed up the hill, and halted at the horror before her.

The castle was there atop a hill, and absolutely covered in webs. Most human constructs had web over or attached to them, but it was light and you could see the structure proper beneath them. This place looked like one massive pile over the thick, white strands. Even the garden, plant life normally incredibly vibrant in the Penumbra, was being choked. Strands of the web buried deep into the ground, and she suspected that they went very deep indeed. It was a wretched, horrible thing to behold. 

She forced herself to move closer. The unnaturalness of it terrified her, but she needed to do this to help her pack. Movement caught her attention. Two strange humanoid things were moving through the garden, pruning already heavily maintained plants. More of the Weaver’s webs hung off of them, identifying them as some form of man-made construct, but at the center of their chests was a sickly green light. It swirled like poison in water, pulsing weakly. Whatever that light was, it was tainted by death, and yet being used to give these things life. She shuddered, but continued onwards.

Night-of-Song was reaching the limits of how far she could travel from her physical body. Trying to remain this close to the material realm without being a part of it was surprisingly taxing. Just on the edges of her senses, she finally picked up on what she was searching for. There was the tiniest bit of Wyrm-taint here. Forcing herself to stretch just a bit further, she brushed along the feeling. It was minor, and certainly not in charge here. It didn’t rise to meet her, suggesting it was trapped, possibly deep below the castle. It was certainly angry to know a garou was here; she could feel it snapping at the edge of her senses. Fomori. Humans or animals that had been possessed by corrupt spirits. There was something larger too, but she couldn’t tell what it was.

She pulled away and raced back to her prone body.

Paige started awake, breathing heavily. Owen’s hand was still on her shoulder, steadying her as she resettled in her body. Lily was leaning forward, eyes fixed on her face.

“What did you find?” Owen asked. 

Paige met his eyes. “What do you want first, the good news or the bad?”

“Which is there more of?” 

She smiled grimly. “Bad.”

Owen mirrored her expression. “Then I guess we should get the good out of the way first.”

She sighed. “Good news is that this isn’t a Wyrm stronghold. However, there is a presence deep underground. I’m thinking it’s a handful of fomori and maybe a bigger wyrmling.”

“Only a few? They shouldn’t be too hard to dispatch,” Owen said. 

“Don’t get too cocky. I couldn’t get close enough to divine what kind they are. They could be weak enough to get blown over by a gust of wind, or strong enough that they could escape whenever they want and are just biding their time for some reason,” Paige warned, hoping her tone wouldn’t offend the alpha. 

“Fine, I’ll save the boasting until after the victory. Still, you look shaken. So what is the real problem?”

“This place is covered by the Weaver’s spinnings. It’s...incredible. I’ve never seen anything this extensive before. I also saw some sort of...construct covered by her webs as well. It looked like a man, sort of, and was metal. There were a few outside, and there’s probably even more inside.”

Lily gaped. “Constructs? Like...robots?”

Paige nodded. “Yes. Thank you for the word. Robots.”

Owen frowned. “Do you think this place belongs to Pentex?”

“No,” the women said in unison. Paige nodded for Lily to continue. “The Glass Walkers did their research on this place. If that corporate scum is involved here, it’s only because the Du Franks invested in stocks.”

“I concur. There isn’t nearly enough of a Wyrm presence here to indicate that Pentex is using this place as a lab for their horrid experiments.”

The alpha nodded, but looked off into the trees. “Okay.”

“You sound disappointed,” Paige noted, giving him a smirk. 

He snorted a laugh. “It would have given us a handy reason for why they’re collecting rare creatures here. That’s what I can’t figure out.”

Lily shrugged. “Idiotic hubris?” she offered.

The other two began laughing in earnest. 

“What’re you whelps laughing about?” Ray’s voice suddenly broke in as he and Swift-Foot returned, the Strider still wolf. Owen raised an eyebrow, barely getting himself back under control. “And you as well, of course, noble leader,” Ray added, but his tone was teasing as opposed to mocking. 

“Let’s call it a release of tension,” Owen said. “Only slightly unrelated to that, I sent Paige to do some snooping as well. Let me fill you in on what she found.”

While their leader spoke to the other males, Lily sat down beside Paige moved away. Instead of returning to her part of the clearing, Lily followed Paige to her part of the clearing and sat nearby. Paige gazed sidelong at her. “You alright?”

Lily sighed. “I don’t know. I can’t help but feel like we’re walking into a trap.”

“We probably are.”

The Walker blinked. “Well, you’re awful blunt.”

Paige chuckled. “We did what we could to prepare. Maybe if we had more time, more resources, we might have been able to get a more reliable plan together. I know that’s what Glass Walkers prefer. But creatures have been going missing for far too long. It’s about time the garou stepped in.”

“That interested in a fight?”

“No, I’m interested in returning the captives to their proper places, or at least get them out of the hands of people who don’t know what they’re doing. The Uktena may not have been able to track anything before now, but we were very much aware of the disappearances. Of course-” Paige suddenly bit her words off, muffling a soft growl as best she could. 

“What?”

She shut her eyes. “Not to point fingers, but some of the more political Tribes have a hard time of authorizing action until there’s a direct threat to the garou.”

Lily gave a sigh of agreement. “True enough, but our kind’s future is shaky enough without trying to solve every problem. And I’m sure some of them felt like these people were doing the world a favor by trapping some of the more monstrous creatures.”

“Even if that is the case, it would only be a matter of time before they caught something they couldn’t control.” Paige looked at Lily, giving her a small grin. “But I give you your point, Philodox. I’m just glad we’re finally intervening before the worst could occur.” There was a pause. “You still seem troubled. I’m sorry I have no good words of comfort to give you.”

“No, it’s not that. I’m just better at a computer than out in the field,” Lily said.

The Galliard smiled. “I’m sure you’ll get your chance in the spotlight. For now, get some rest. We’ve got an exciting night ahead of us.”

“Yeah. Is it alright if I stay near you?”

“Of course, so long as you don’t mind the fur.” With that, Paige slipped into her wolf form, stretching her back before lying down.

Lily finally smiled. “You know, I always forget that you’re naturally a wolf and not a human.” She held out her hand over Night-of-Song’s shoulders, asking permission. The wolf nodded, resting her head on her paws while Lily idly ran her fingers through the wolf’s ruff. “You always seem so comfortable no matter what form you’re in.”

“She’s an odd one, alright,” Ray said softly, causing the woman to jump. She began to pull her hand away from Night-of-Song, but Ray shook his head and motioned for her to continue. “Ain’t rude to pet a werewolf if she said you could. Th’ closeness helps to settle nerves.” At that moment, Swift-Foot padded up to them and lay down beside the other wolf with a satisfied huff, the tip of his tail resting against her flank. “See, even th’ loner gets it.”

“You’re saying you want in?” Lily asked, laughter in her voice.

“I’ll take th’ other side of th’ tree, if you don’t mind.” 

Lily waved her hand. “Be my guest.” Ray obliged, but despite his earlier words, he left a fair amount of space between himself and her. She raised an eyebrow, but said nothing to him, instead opting to call out to the only person not in the pile. “Hey, Owen, there’s still some room over here if you’re interested.”

Their alpha smiled. “Even if there wasn’t, I’d have made some space.” He sat down between Lily and Ray, which seemed to surprise the Gnawer. “And you don’t have to feel like you have to stay away from us,” Owen said softly to him. 

Ray gave an amused huff. “I guess I’m still getting used to that, too. Most Tribes look down on us Gnawers.”

“We aren’t with our Tribes now. We’re with our Pack, and there is no room in it for distrust or worry for what we might think of each other’s upbringing. We’re together, and we’ll look out for each other. Got it?” 

Ray held their alpha’s stare for a long time before relaxing and respectfully dropping his gaze. “Yeah, I got it. Thanks.”

Night-of-Song sighed contentedly as the pack relaxed around her. No matter what happened next, they at least had this moment of peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahote is the only other garou in the Silver Pack who was born a wolf, and thusly he has a similar naming convention as Paige. The form a werewolf was initially born as is considered their natural form and is generally more comfortable for the individual in question. It’s also the form they are forced to return to when they lose consciousness, including if they fall asleep. That’s why most revert to their natural form before taking a nap, as it can be disorienting to go to sleep as one thing and awaken as another. That being said, it is much easier to converse as a human as the language of man is much more extensive than that of wolf. 
> 
> Changing forms for a garou is generally painless, outside of the First Change (which is excruciating) and anytime they are forced to shift against their will (ie, if their forms are tied to the phase of the moon or if a spell is used to force a shift). Some find shifting easier than others, and there are various Gifts and merits that can make it even easier. 
> 
> Finally, what happens to a garou’s clothes and wearable items when they change is actually up in the air and is left up to the choice of the Storyteller. I decided to go by D&D rules, where clothing and items on the shifter’s person just sort of melds into their animal form and returns when they revert to human shape. The Umbra just makes a convenient excuse for why it works here.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I looked up pictures of Thornewood Castle online, and I have no idea whether if not the property has a wall surrounding it. Google Earth hates my computer, and normal people don’t take aerial shots of the location. I apologize if I got that detail wrong, but considering that this whole thing is technically an AU, I can add a brick wall. It’s a minor change compared to CC’s. That being said, the place itself is quite beautiful. I’m sure it’d be a lovely place to visit.

Night-of-Song woke from her light doze to find twilight was upon them. Raising her head, she saw Owen rise to his feet and gently rouse the rest of the Pack. She and Swift-Foot both stretched the stiffness from their backs before shifting to human form.

“It’s time to move in. As a reminder, while Ray and Ahote did not find any hidden cameras or any means beyond the wall keeping us out, that’s no reason to let our guard down. If the mechanical men Paige saw are still about, they will probably be our biggest challenge. That being said, no unnecessary risks. Keep low, and don’t start any fights. However, if they want to start a fight first, then I say it’s open season on robots.” Owen cracked his knuckles for emphasis. “Any concerns, voice them now.” No one said anything, though some were already fidgety. “Then let’s go.”

They fell into line and moved almost silently through the trees. Any additional rustling they made could just as easily been attributed to the wind or small creatures in the underbrush. As they reached the wall, Owen stopped them and motioned for Lily to give it a once over in case the Glass Walker could find something the others couldn’t. After investigating, she shook her head. Nothing new. He nodded for the pack to make it over the wall however they could. The wall was around fifteen feet high, which would have discouraged just about any other animal, but not a werewolf. Ray gave Lily a leg up before he and Owen clambered over the brick wall, while Paige and Ahote simply jumped it. The forest continued on the other side of the wall, and the pack moved in near-silence through it. They finally reached the edge of the tree line and paused to examine the grounds leading up to the castle.

They were approaching from the side rather than the front. Even in the low light, Paige could tell that the castle was quite striking in the physical world. To anyone who didn’t know the secrets it was hiding, the place would appear rustic yet elegant, a sprawling lawn with the occasional fountain or statue surrounding a large and beautiful red brick building. The gardens were well cared for, if a little over pruned for her tastes, and the entire location had a beautiful lake as its backdrop. She supposed the front must be even more stunning.

“Should there be so many lights on?” Lily murmured.

“Night owls?” offered Ahote.

“Naw, there’s too many lit windows for just that. Th’ whole place is lit up,” Ray replied.

Paige tilted her head, eyes narrowing. “Doesn’t seem like there’s a party going on. No silhouettes in the windows.” Something moved in the shadows outside the garden. “Wait, there!” she hissed, pointing to where she saw the movement.

Multiple pairs of glowing green eyes were headed in their direction. Not straight for them, but moving as though they were searching for something. The pack collectively held their breath as the robots clattered their way past them, apparently unaware of the garou crouched mere feet away from them. As soon as the machines had rounded the corner of the building, they exchanged glances.

“I don’t like this. Something’s going on,” hissed Lily.

“Like what?” Owen answered. “That looked like a normal perimeter patrol.”

Ahote shook his head. “They were hunting…looking for something…”

“We should leave and come up with a better plan,” the Glass Walker said, voice wavering slightly. “Just sneaking in is too flimsy. We don’t even have a good idea on how to get in, much less what we’ll find inside.” She crept back deeper into the bushes. Paige could feel Lily’s fear shivering through the pack bond.

“No. We’re here and we’re doing this,” Owen insisted, either unaware of or ignoring Lily’s distress. “You know that your Tribe tried to investigate this place from a distance and came up empty. We have to break in ourselves and take it down from within. Now, we can’t dally any longer. Those robots might be running a circuit and will be coming back around soon.” He left the cover of the tree line without another word. The rest of the pack exchanged worried glances.

“Damn Ahrouns,” Ray muttered before quickly following their alpha. Ahote followed, crouched so low he was almost crawling on all fours.

Paige found Lily’s hand and squeezed it. “I’m not thrilled either, but we need to stay together. We need to take care of each other, even when some are being obstinate.” She pulled gently on Lily’s arm before letting go and leaving the shadows, hearing the other woman following soon after.

They caught up to the others soon. Ahote suddenly turned to where the robots had vanished. “There’s a group coming up behind us!” he whispered. His hearing was the sharpest of all of them, so while the others could hear nothing out of the ordinary yet, they believed him.

There was no cover near enough for them to dive into. They’d either have to make a break for the castle or try to run back to the trees, neither of which was close enough to make it to in time. The pack froze, and those few seconds of hesitation was enough for the rest of them to hear the squeaking of metal joints. Thinking fast, Paige pulled on her magic, forming it into a large, dense black fog and sending it to the corner of the building. “That should blind them for a few moments when they come around the bend. Should we make a break for it?”

A sudden, mechanical voice broke in before anyone could respond. “Intruders! Remain where you are to be found and processed!” Through the fog, they could barely make out glowing green eyes. They were looking around confusedly, and though some moved off in completely the wrong direction, most were heading right towards the little group.

Paige began muttering frantically. “That should’ve worked for way longer. Why didn’t it work for way longer?”

Through the pack bonds came a sudden surge of power, thrilling their inner wolves. Owen stood up, tall and proud, inspiring to behold. “I think the jig is up. Perhaps it would be better to put these abominations down nice and quick.” Even Lily, the most frightened of them, let out a delighted growl. Paige almost resented the way their alpha was pushing his will onto them, but the excitement coursing through them overrode it. The pack drew closer to their alpha, practically bristling with energy. Just say the word, she thought. We’re ready. “Lily, Paige, think you can force them to shut down?”

“Not all of them, but some. I’ll give it my best,” Lily answered.

“Good. Paige?” The Fianna looked at her. From the look in his eyes, he knew what he was doing was bothering her. His gaze was slightly apologetic, but confident as well. The final decisions for the pack were ultimately his, and now was not the time to question him.

She understood that, and she dipped her head respectfully. “My howls are always ready.”

As the first of the robots emerged from the fog, Owen stared them down. “I’ll give you a fair warning, lads. Turn around, go back, and forget you ever saw us.”

“Order delivered from outsider. Order understood, but ignored,” intoned one robot.

“Submit peacefully for questioning,” added another.

The alpha snarled in response. “Like hell. Silver Pack, attack!” He roared as he shifted to crinos form, the true form of the garou, and the others followed his lead. Thick protective fur coated their bodies, bone and muscle grew, claws replaced fingernails, and teeth sharpened into fangs.

Their sudden change caused the robots to pause in confusion, definitely not expecting the ragtag group of humans to turn into nine-plus-foot tall movie monsters. The werewolves took advantage of this and attacked in unison.

Lily’s special brand of magic gave her an advantage against machines. She pounced at the closest two robots, and at a mere touch of her claws their joints sparked and locked up, causing them to crash to the ground. The jammed state she had put them in would not last long, but it made them helpless for her and Ahote to simply tear off the robots’ heads. Paige let lose a howl that called forth the Wyld itself to worm its way into three more robots, causing them to go haywire. Two turned towards the castle and ran headlong into the garden wall, while the third turned and began grappling with its neighbor.

Her human mind, little more than a whisper inside the beast, registered that something was wrong. The Wyld wasn’t responding to her the way it should have been. Any within hearing of her howl should have been affected. Why only these three then? But then a robot attempted to leap upon her back, and her train of thought derailed as the wolf’s instincts took over again.

The commotion had alerted the previous patrol to turn around and return to help their mechanical brethren subdue the intruders. They came clanking back, and their arrival pinned the pack between two walls of steel robots. Or it would have, if not for Ray and Owen. The Gnawer let out a low whistle, a strange sound to be coming from the jaws of a werewolf, but the effect was immediate. Three of the approaching robots suddenly found themselves corroding away, fingers falling off and joints rusting to a stop. Meanwhile, the Ahroun was far less subtle ten the others. He threw himself into the automatons midst with a ferocious snarl, tearing the limbs off one before whirling around to decapitate another.

The machines’ initial confusion wore off and those who were still standing recovered from it, metal fingers clawing at the garous’ pelts. Others began crackling with energy. Through the haze of battle, an alarm pierced the air. Paige looked up to see more robots come racing towards them. Form the corner of her eye, more movement caught her attention. The decapitated robots were rising to their feet again. Being headless didn’t stop them from functioning, and they began blindly groping towards the skirmish, probably attracted by the vibrations heavy footfalls and bodies made on the ground.

 _“Pack! Beheading doesn’t work!”_ she cried in the garou tongue, backing away from the morbid sight before her, spark issuing from their headless necks.

 _“Then go for the heart!”_ roared back Owen.

 _“No!”_ Lily shrieked, but it was too late.

Owen’s claws punched through the chassis of the nearest robot like it was paper, but as his hand touched the swirling green light at its core, he let out a howl of pure agony. The echoes of his pain hit them through the pack bonds, sending the other garou to the ground in shock. Emotions were easily transmitted to each other, but never physical pain. It was icy cold and boiling hot at the same time, and each wolf felt like death itself was clutching their hearts.

They were given no chance to recover. Heavy steel nets fell over them while they lay dazed. Several of them rallied as the links touched their fur. Paige hooked her claws into it, ready to tear it apart, when electricity suddenly coursed through it. Her muscles spasmed and tightened so hard she was certain she felt her bones crack. Her own shriek echoed in her ears as she fell into the darkness of unconsciousness.

~~~~

Night-of-Song awoke feeling like she had been trampled by several herds of bison. She rose stiffly to her paws, wincing as the hard stone beneath her scraped her pads. Her vision was blurry at first, her eyes unwilling to focus on her surroundings, so instead she started with a self-examination. Her red pelt was crisscrossed with slightly blackened lines and smelled like singed fur. Had those electric nets set her coat on fire? An alarming thought, but what she could see was not terrible. It hadn’t reached her flesh, and any burned fur would likely shed out on it’s own.

Her forelegs sported several minor abrasions, and she could feel that her left flank had been torn open. Fortunately, the natural magic of the garou included rapid healing, and so long as the individual in question was not further injured, even large wounds could be expected to heal into a scar on its own in a few hours. The laceration on her side must’ve been healing for only an hour or so. It was no longer bleeding, but only the edges of it showed any real signs of repair. The rest was heavily scabbed over. She’d have to be careful to not tear it open again when she moved. As a cautionary measure, she lifted her left hind paw off the ground and sternly told herself not to use it.

Night-of-Song lifted her head and sniffed. The air smelled musty and stale, and there were underlying fear and anger scents. And the scent of something familiar. Turning towards it, she saw Swift-Foot laying prone less than thirty feet away. She yipped happily and hobbled towards him, only to run into something hard. She yelped and backed up to see a nose-shaped smudge hovering before her. Confused, she turned in a circle to actually look at what was around her. She was in a box. Three of the sides were gray metal, and the fourth, the one she had run into, was some sort of thick glass. The ceiling of the box was also that glassy material, while the floor was hard concrete. In one back corner was a pile of dried grass, and the other one had a large water bottle. Across from her, she could see that Swift-Foot was in a similar box, with a little plaque attached to it. Her box also had one that she couldn’t read, but his was marked “2379-C”. She barked at him, but didn’t even receive an ear twitch in reply.

Sighing, she put her nose to the glass again and tried to see the rest of the outside world. There were not many lights on, but the little illumination was enough for her to see that there were many other boxes outside. She wasn’t at an angle that let her see inside of them, but she had to assume that if Swift-foot was here, so was the rest of her pack. The Galliard lifted her head and howled, her magic swirling around it to mask it from anything that wasn’t canine in nature. She sang that she and Swift-foot were here, both alive if battered. A smattering of barks and growls answered her, but only the single howl that responded mattered to her. It was Owen’s. He wasn’t too far away, and his tone told her that both Lily and Ray were near him. His howl was not guarded the way hers was, and many more roars, screams, and yowls rose up around them.

The wolf was tempted to step into the Umbra to try to find him, but the fear of leaving her body prevented her from doing so. Instead, she tried another Galliard gift, one that allowed her mind’s eye to see the whole of the area. However, as she tried to focus, her magic seemed to struggle before skittering away from her.

The part of the wolf’s mind that was still Paige began pondering. Why did her magic work sometimes but was stunted at others? She began pacing her box to help logic overrule the wolf’s frightened instincts. It realization hit her so hard she almost physically staggered. If the gift she was attempting to use relied solely on her own abilities, it worked fine. Yet if it required outside help, such as calling to the Wyld, the effect was lessened significantly. And with the gift she just attempted to use, it required the help of surrounding spirits to share what they could see with her...She stopped abruptly, a shiver racing down her spine. The spirits did not have to consent to her barrowing their sight. The fact that she knew the gift meant that she was honorable enough to not misuse it. If the gift didn’t work, that meant that there was no one to help her. Night-of-Song turned to look at Swift-foot. No spirits meant that the Theurge was at a severe disadvantage. Almost all of his gifts relied on outside assistance.

Owen howled again, this time prompting a smaller chorus of other calls, though even they seemed half-hearted. It seemed the other denizens here didn’t have much fire in them anymore. But Lily was awake, and it seemed Ray was also stirring. That just left Swift-Foot. Night-of-Song laid down close to the glass, softly whining to him. _"_ _Wake up, I need you. I’m so alone."_

After what felt like forever, the other wolf sneezed. Night-of-Song was on her paws in an instant, the pain in her side reminding her to keep her hind paw elevated. She began barking madly at him, her tail wagging hard and fast. The Strider’s head raised slowly, blinking groggily at her. In a flash, he was up on his paws and he sprang towards her. He yelped in pain as he collided with the glass. Swift-Foot turned about, much the same way she had, before letting out a terrified bark. He whirled back to the glass and began frantically clawing at it, eyes rolling in fear. She whined in response, putting her own paw on the glass of her box. Instead of calming him, he only seemed to become more panicked.

She howled to Owen again worriedly, uncertain how to calm the other wolf. Their alpha howled a response, his message meant specifically for Swift-Foot. Be calm, Ahote Swift-Foot. We are alive, we are here. We will find each other. Rely on Paige Night-of-Song. She will watch over you.

Swift-Foot’s scrabbling ceased, though he still panted heavily in terror. She caught his gaze and held it steadily. “What is wrong, brother?” she whined.

 _“Trapped with no escape…fear…can’t get out!”_ he answered disjointedly. He was shaking.

This was more than just being afraid of a strange place, her human mind realized. This sounded like some sort of phobia to her. Swift-Foot needed his alpha, a wolf more dominant than he was to help control this intense fear. How was she supposed to help keep a wolf who was more dominant than she was calm?

With a heavy sigh, she sat and shifted to human. She hissed in pain as her partially healed wound was pulled into a new position. Swift-Foot whined to her as she put her hand over her side. “It’s fine,” Paige said. “I’m fine, just stings a bit.” She met his gaze. “So this all sucks, huh?” He blinked and whined again. “Not in the mood for jokes, eh? Maybe a song then? Any preferences?” The wolf across from her panted noisily. “Anything, eh? Well, talking hurts my side a bit, so I don’t think singing’s gonna be much better. Lucky for you, my flute is never far from me.”

Careful not to twist too much, Paige reached over her shoulder and under her shirt, feeling for the thin leather case strapped to her back, much in the same way a back scabbard would be. But instead of a sword, this one held a wooden flute. Finding it, she flipped up the lid and pulled out the cedar instrument.

She had carved this one herself when she was still just a cub of the sept. It had taken her many tries to get it right. She had lost count how many of them her mentor had thrown into the fire pit, her work never up to the old wolf’s standards. Paige could remember how frustrated she was with him, never even asking to hear the tone before simply taking it and throwing it away. One morning, instead of just showing him her work, she crept to where he was sleeping and simply played her newly-finished flute. He had rolled over and smiled at her. “You’ve finally figured it out,” he had said. “If you keep looking for approval from others, you’re never gonna be happy with yourself first. That confidence will serve you well.” Oh, she had raged at him for making her do so much work, making her feel so inferior to the other trainees. He had simply listened to it all, and when she was done asked if she liked the flute she had carved. And she did, so much more than any of her previous attempts. She loved it, and told him as much. He held out his hand for it, and she gave him her flute. He tied a little wooden carving to it with some deer hide, a cougar with a serpent’s tail and the antlers of a stag. It was the spirit Uktena, their Tribe’s namesake and totem. “Good job, cub,” he’d said as he handed it back. “You’ve done well.”

The totem her flute had carried had changed multiple times with her pack’s totem, currently sporting a little phoenix with garnet eyes that she had made herself, but she always kept that first carving close. It was currently wrapped up in some rabbit fur at the bottom of her flute’s case, a memoir of her mentor.

Paige lifted the flute to her lips and began playing for Swift-Foot. The flute’s tone was low and warm, slightly breathy, like wolves howling with the wind. She shut her eyes and let the music flow from her heart, through her life breath, and out to her packmate. Her song carried the warmth of the sun, a gentle breeze through tall grass, the peace of a content pack, and she felt his panic through the pack bonds begin to fade slowly. His eyes shut as his breathing steadied, and he slowly sank down to the floor of his box, resting his head on his paws. She could feel the tension from the other bonds begin to calm as well. Perhaps they could hear her, too.

She played until she was certain Swift-Foot was resting comfortably, and then she returned the flute to its case and shifted to her wolf. Night-of-Song laid down against the glass and kept vigil over her sleeping packmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this chapter wasn’t too short. I could’ve added on another scene, but I felt like it wouldn’t quite mesh with what happened in this one. I’m also going to try to upload every Saturday or Sunday. 
> 
> A few more notes. The pack bonds do not work in the same way that the robots’ WiFi communications do in CC's and SE's works. They can’t use them to speak silently to one another. All it really does is communicate emotions and general statuses to each other. 
> 
> In most legends, the Uktena is a winged serpent with antlers, but in W:TA lore, it is as it was described in this chapter. I’m assuming poetic license is responsible for that change. A little part of me wanted to write in a snippet of The Jon asking Paige how her Tribe received Uktena’s name, but I felt like that would break immersion. Admittedly, part of me wants to kind of play this a little like “The Princess Bride, where sometimes The Jon would break in with a question, but again, I don’t know if that would break the mood too much.
> 
> Finally, almost all gifts are taught to the garou by spirits associated with the power of that gift. A few awaken naturally with the First Change, and several can be learned from another werewolf, but ultimately all come from spirits. Because of this, any werewolf who knows a gift learned it because they earned it, either through completing a task for the spirit or gaining its respect for an outside deed the garou performed.


	4. Chapter 3

Sitting vigil became boring rather quickly, as Night-of-Song discovered. Perhaps if something was actively threatening them it would be more interesting, but as it was, nothing much was happening. After spending a great deal of time sighing, she got up and began pacing her box again. She was becoming hungry. Unfortunately, rapid healing used up a lot of calories. How were the others faring? She thought of Owen. What the hell had happened to him, and what was that awful green light?

A low, grinding hum distracted her from her thoughts. The very second she realized the sound was not organic but mechanical, Swift-foot’s box jumped, waking her packmate and sending him into a panic once more. His box suddenly moved towards her. Before it crashed into hers, it began moving sideways, taking him away from her. They both began barking to each other as they lost sight of one another. Shortly after his box vanished from her line of sight, her own gave a lurch, causing her to stagger onto her bad leg with a yelp of pain. Her own box moved forward and then followed along behind Swift-Foot’s. His barking became frantic, and while Night-of-Song tried to continue to comfort him, she rapidly became distracted by the other boxes they were passing.

One box was full of foliage, lilacs, grass, and moss. The creature inhabiting this tiny sanctuary was dainty, with a coat the color of fresh milk. A thin, silvery horn spiraled from its forehead, though even before she saw that, she knew this was a unicorn. It’s purity burned within the darkness. Night-of-Song quietly thanked Gaia that their pack held none from the Children of Gaia. Those from that Tribe would have been heart-broken to see their totem trapped in this place. She couldn’t imagine what she would have done if Uktena or even one of his aspects was in one of those boxes.

In another, a dark cloud swirled into a solid form. A large black dog with burning red eyes regarded her solemnly from its box. _“Why are you so far from your graveyard?”_ she tried to ask the church grim, but it did not respond vocally. Instead, it let the weight of its grief crash down upon her, the sense of purposelessness bringing tears to her eyes. This poor spirit was meant to protect the dead, not be trapped below the earth itself.

Her nose picked up the scent of ocean brine. The next box she passed was full of dark water. Within this one, something was swimming circles. The first pass only revealed the outline of a tail. The second let her see that its body was coated by slick fur, which became scales by the time you reached the tail. The third pass revealed the beast to be a hippocampus, a creature with the head and torso of a horse and the tail of a fish. It looked tired and bored. This creature was made to roam vast oceans with its herd. Or school, she supposed. She was shocked that it hadn’t gone mad, circling this little tank. Or perhaps it already had, and now it was just broken.

And she passed so many other creatures. A poor ice wyvern that was panting slightly despite its box having a cooling system. A once-proud gryphon whose wingtips were now bald and bloodied due to it obsessively preening. An old harpy that squawked loudly and clacked its chipped beak madly at her.

Just when she thought she might go mad herself from this parade of nightmares, Night-of-Song’s box shot upwards. She staggered again as the momentum changed so fast it made her dizzy. She shut her eyes and flattened out on the concrete color, unable to do anything else. Finally her ascent slowed. With a hiss of air, her box shuddered to a stop. Panting slightly, she opened her eyes and looked around.

Her box was now in a large room, some sort of banquet hall perhaps. Tall ceilings allowed for (exceptionally gaudy) chandeliers and enormous windows. On the walls between the windows were paintings from every era and style. A long table ran down the center of the room, unset but with plenty of chairs for entertaining many people.

None of this mattered to her nearly as much as the four other boxes in the room. Each of her packmates occupied one that was set up much like her own, set in a semi circle at one end of the hall. Their boxes also sported the little plaques, with that same number, 2379, but a different number. In order, Ray was ‘A’, Owen ‘B’, Swift-foot ‘C’, and Lily ‘E’. That left ‘D’, which Night-of-Song had to assume was hers. A cacophony of barks and voices broke out between them all as they recognized each other. All except for their alpha. The man was seated in one corner with their back to them.

“Owen? Owen, are you alright?” Lily finally asked, addressing him directly. Her concern silenced the others, though Swift-foot continued to whine softly.

After a moment, the Fianna stood and turned to them. Night-of-Song recoiled in horror at the sight of his hand. Fused to it was the metal from the robot he had torn into. The edges where his flesh met it were raw and still slowly oozing blood. Lily gagged at the sight, and Night-of-Song had to agree with that reaction. She was almost glad her stomach was empty now.

“Holy hell…what is that?” breathed Ray, the most composed out of all of them, aside from Owen.

There were tears in the Ahroun’s eyes. “I saw faeries. There are fae here.”

“You have a whole heap o’ slag stuck to your arm, and that’s what you’re worried about?” Ray ground out.

“Of course that’s what I’m worried about! Fae! My kinfolk are trapped here!” Owen roared in response, slamming the metal and flesh lump against the glass. The sound it created was like a gunshot, sending poor Swift-foot back into a frenzy. The glass shuddered, but did not crack. Owen growled in pain and flexed his fingers. The metal around his fist moved with his fingers despite the mass looking solid.

Night-of-Song trembled, both at the sight and what he said. The Fianna Tribe were extremely close to the Fae, and indeed had interbred with them in the past. She generally avoided interacting with faeries because of how tricky their race could be, but she did know that for the most part they could slip in and out of the faery realms, mind and body both. How could they be held here with that ability? And that metal lump on his hand moved with him, flexed with his movements. Had that weird green light he touched done this to him?

Her alpha was not in his right mind. He wasn’t even attempting to calm the other wolf. Night-of-Song snatched at the pack bond between her and Swift-foot, sending him the same assurance that he was not alone and images of freedom that she promised they’d all have again someday. She hated making a promise that she wasn’t sure she could keep, but it was the only thing that kept his emotions in check.

“Owen,” Ray growled. “Enough. You’re alpha, start acting like it. Your packmate is in pain, and you’re leaving a less dominant wolf to care for him. Paige’s doing a great job, but it shouldn’t be hers.” He dipped his head respectfully to her. “Our boxes were moved here for a reason. We’re probably gonna have some visitors real soon. Get your act together so we can properly scare the pants off the real enemy.”

Owen glowered at the Bone Gnawer before taking a calming breath. “You know, I should have your ears for that rant,” he said, but Night-of-Song felt the burden of Swift-Foot’s fear get taken from her and a brief sensation of her ears getting rubbed. The other wolf calmed immediately at their alpha’s assurance.

“Welcome back,” Ray said with a smirk.

“Thanks. So I saw fae on our little trip. What about you?”

“My box was facing a bunch of mutated humans. It was...awful,” Lily spoke up.

“Same,” added Ray.

Owen held up his mangled hand. “Like this?”

“No, like anomalies of science. Conjoined twins, weird growths, that sort of thing,” Lily answered, looking away uncomfortably. “I felt so bad for them.”

“What about you, Paige?”

_“Creatures that most humans would assume only to be legends.”_

“Bet they were thrilled to be here,” Ray said dryly.

 _“Understatement. Angry, sick, or broken,”_ she answered.

“Any sign of the wyrmtainted individuals?” Owen asked.

_“I was...distracted. I did not think to feel around while we were moving.”_

“By Swift-Foot?”

She hung her head in shame. _“By what I was seeing. It was too shocking to see noble and powerful creatures reduced to...nothing.”_

“It’s okay,” Owen assured her. “I can imagine that seeing things from your stories caught here was...painful.” She met his gaze and gave him a half-hearted smile. “What was frightening Ahote so much?”

“Being trapped. Caught with no escape.”

“Cleithrophobia,” Lily suddenly said. “That’s the name for that fear,” she added sheepishly when the others all looked at her.

“Not claustrophobia?” Ray asked.

“No, that’s just the fear of a small enclosed space. Cleithrophobia is the fear of not being able to get out of said enclosed space. Like being trapped under snow and ice from an avalanche, and in this case, a box with no visible exit.”

Swift-foot’s head suddenly lifted, and he let out a low growl, staring at the doors at the other end of the room. _“People coming,”_ he snarled.

The others fell silent and stared at the doors as well. Night-of-Song desperately hoped the others couldn’t feel her anxiety. These people captured and contained beasts far stronger than any werewolf. They were not to be trifled with.

The doors were opened and held by two automatons for three humans. At the front of the group was a tall, heavy-set man. He looked to be middle-aged, and there was confusion in his eyes. “They’re what destroyed a dozen of the robots?”

Behind him was a well muscled man with an extremely unsettling aura around him. “Apparently,” he answered, voice thickly accented. “Some of the robots said they turned into monsters.”

The third human was an elderly woman who was pulling a cigarette from a little metal case. Whoever her hairdresser was should be fired, in Night-of-Song’s opinion. Unless the woman actually wanted pink hair. It clashed terribly with her green pantsuit. ”They don’t look like monsters now,” she rasped, lighting the cigarette and taking a drag.

“I assume you are James Du Franks?” Owen said, addressing the male in the lead.

He blinked. “You know who I am?”

“Yes, we do. In fact, you’re the very person I was hoping to see. You’ve been trapping living beings and keeping them here against their will.” He suddenly slammed his metal covered hand against the glass. This time Swift-foot remained still, but only just. “Why?” he snarled.

“My, the green matter certainly has done a number on you,” the man, James, said, clearly trying to appear unfazed by the sudden outburst. “And I’m not the one capturing them. That would be my man Donatu here.”

“Semantics,” Ray spat. “He catches them for you.”

“True, true. Some people collect bottle caps or baseball cards. Those are boring for me. I set my sights higher for my collection. I want the rare, the legendary, the truly special. So, how did you take you take down all those robots? All I see is a hobo,” he pointed at Ray, “A boxer wannabe,” pointing at Owen, “And a couple of mutts.” Night-of-Song growled deep within her chest. How could this idiot, who claimed to want the rarest things for his collection, not recognize a red wolf and a Mexican wolf? Their species were almost extinct!

“And what about me?” Lily said, crossing her arms.

“You are at least pretty, my dear,” James cooed to her. She rolled her eyes. “So tell me, are you actually monsters? Are you special enough for my collection? Otherwise, I’ll just let Donatu do what he likes to you lot.”

“I’ve got lots of new experiments I’d like to try,” the other man said with a wicked grin, cracking his knuckles.

The pack looked at Owen. “We may as well,” Night-of-Song whined. Either show him now and earn a chance to get our freedom later, or refuse and just turn when we’re being tortured. They’ll find out no matter what.”

The alpha sighed. “Oh, very well.” With his permission, all the garou had shifted to crinos. There was no rush of power, no thrill of becoming her true self for Paige. The Uktena almost felt dirty, shifting just to please another. She tried very hard not to look at Owen’s hand. It had twisted further with the living metal before it finally took on a form somewhat similar to a werewolf’s claws. “Happy?” rumbled Owen, human language coming out more like a growl than an actual word.

“Good heavens!” the woman exclaimed, dropping her cigarette. She stood frozen at the sight of the werewolves. Before the cigarette could do any lasting damage, Donatu stamped it out.

James was too busy pressing his face up against the glass of Ahote’s box. “This is amazing, mummy! A real life werewolf! A whole pack of them, too!” He flitted from one box to another, examining them. “Oh, you’re definitely worth a spot in the collection.”

“Keep us together, then,” Paige said when he was in front of her box once more. “We are a pack. We’ll do much better in a group.”

“Do you think I’m stupid enough to put all of you in the same cage?” the man asked.

“No, of course not,” Paige said, hiding her lie. “But make sure we are near each other. We’ll last longer that way. We might not even stir up as much of a fuss if you leave us together.”

“She has a point on that one,” Donatu said, approaching his employer. “Earlier they were howling to each other and riling up the other creatures. Maybe they’ll keep quiet if we leave them together.”

“I guess you have a point. But the cages get mixed around so easily when I call up the ones I want to see.”

“Then leave us here,” Lily interrupted. She had returned to her human form, uncomfortable with being in crinos. A part of her hated the fact that she was a werewolf, and that form only made it so she could not deny what she was. “We’ll be together and out of the way, and you can come visit us whenever you’d like.”

She’s laying it on a little thick, Paige thought. She became human as well. “Besides, wouldn’t it be more exciting for your guests to see an entire pack of powerful werewolves than just one? Think of how much more impressive five would be compared to one.”

James nodded thoughtfully. “I usually keep my collection underground so they don’t cause any disturbances. You promise not to make any noise up here?”

“Nothing louder than talking,” Owen said.

Donatu frowned. “I think they are plotting something,” he rumbled.

James held up a hand. “I don’t pay you for your opinions. I pay you to catch and maintain my collection. And if they misbehave, you get to remind them of their proper place. I’ll give them a chance. We’ll see what happens.” He turned to the robots. “Bring them food. We’ll leave them here for now. I have a party coming up soon, and I want them looking their best.” The robots gave affirmatives and clanked away.

“James, dear, you really should get back to the planning for the upcoming banquet,” the woman said shakily, barely recovered from the shock of seeing the werewolves.

“Oh, but mummy, I want to play more!” James whined.

“Lady Annette is right,” Donatu said. “Don’t you think you’re new pieces change things up a bit?”

“I guess that’s true. We’ll have to change the theme to match them so the unveiling will be more impressive,” he answered. “Fine. I’ll come back later to see what else you can do. I bet you have lots more tricks than just shapeshifting.”

The humans left, Lady Annette and her son discussing color schemes. Donatu shot the pack one last glare before the doors shut behind them.

Ray and Owen both returned to human form while poor Ahote went back to being a wolf. It seemed to be the only way he could cling to what little sanity he had left.

“Well, you wanted to get in,” Ray said as he sat back against a wall.

“Yeah, and I’m regretting it,” Owen replied. “I should’ve listened to you, Lily, instead of letting my big dumb ego get in the way.”

“There’s nothing we can do to change what happened. But we are at least inside, and maybe that gives us an advantage to putting things to an end,” she said.

“Like what?” asked Paige, sitting cross-legged by the glass.

“I don’t know yet. But there has to be something good we can come up with, right?” She paused. “Right?”

Ray shrugged. “All I know is that he’d better give us a better floor to sleep on. This concrete ain’t doin’ my back any favors.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm a bit late. Work's been driving me nuts. And I've reached a point where I know where I'm going but I'm not sure how to get there. I'll try to keep the meandering to a minimum.


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all. I edited some of the previous chapters because I realized that when I transferred in what I wrote, it removed any italics I used. I've fixed that now.
> 
> And just as a slight clarification, when Night-of-Song and Swift-Foot call each other brother or sister, it's meant as an honorific. Being wolf-born, they feel a deeper connection to each other.
> 
> *Edit* Apparently this chapter decided to have formatting issues when it was transferred. I thing I found most of them. Sorry for the confusion.

When it became apparent that no one was returning soon, the pack relaxed slightly and allowed themselves to fall into hushed conversation. The high-strung Swift-Foot would certainly alert them if anything came near the room.

“So,” Paige began with a sigh. “I’ve got a working theory on why the battle last night could’ve gone better.”

“Do tell,” Ray said, shifting restlessly against the wall he was leaning back on.

“It seems spirits are avoiding this place at all costs, or at least those who are aligned to us.” She began pacing as she spoke. “I can feel a few here and there, but they’re all outside, clinging to the trees and the garden. They won’t come inside this building.” _“So alone,”_ Swift-Foot whined.

Paige nodded sympathetically. “Yes, brother, I know. If we try to pull magic that requires outside help, it fails.”

“That explains why callin’ up th’ rust was nerfed so badly,” Ray grumbled.

“How does it normally work?” Paige asked, just a smidge too curiously.

The Gnawer snorted. “Nice try, Uktena. I’m not teachin’ any of my tricks just yet. But it should’ve effected anything that heard th’ whistle. I’m guessing that howl you used works similarly, yeah?”

“Those it worked on, it did correctly. But yes, it should have worked on most, if not all, of them,” Paige said.

“The Fae I saw...pixies,” Owen said so softly the others immediately turned their attention to him. It wasn’t often you’d hear a Fianna Ahroun use a tone barely above a whisper. “They said the ley lines around here are messed up. It’s why they can’t pop out of here. Like...if the ley lines were pipes carrying magic, someone broke those pipes to this place and capped them off so nothing leaked out.”

“How does that work?” Lily asked, clearly shocked. “I know my gifts are less natural magic and more technologically attuned, but I thought just cutting all magic off from a location was impossible.”

“It should be,” Owen answered. His gaze shifted to Paige, narrowing his eyes almost imperceptibly. “Although, aren’t there Uktena rites that can?”

If it wasn’t for how deathly serious he was being, she’d have laughed. “That’s a vast overestimation of our abilities,” she said as evenly as she could. “I know our Tribe is the boogey man of the garou, and I know that our hunt for knowledge brings us closer to Wyrm taint than the rest of you would like, but I promise that isolating an estate this size from magic is impossible.”

“But your Tribe can do it, yes?”

Paige almost rolled her eyes. “Yes, a large enough group of highly trained rite masters can isolate a small area from external magic. It requires an immense amount of upkeep to do so, and is used to keep bound Great Banes from consuming enough magic to break free and resume wreaking havoc on Gaia. Our Banetenders would always be present at such sites, and regularly checked to ensure they are not becoming corrupted. If we had a hand or a paw in any of the goings on here, a Silver Pack would not have been formed to investigate and deal with it. The Uktena Tribe would’ve dealt with it in house.”

Owen bowed his head. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have interrogated you. I’m sorry. Some alpha I’m turning out to be, eh? I ignore or turn on my packmates at the drop of a hat.”

Paige sighed. “We’re all stressed, and I know how well stereotypes stick. Uktena are two steps from becoming servants of the Wyrm, Glass Walkers turned their backs on the Wyld in favor of the Weaver’s creations, Bone Gnawers are only slightly better than boot-licking dogs, Silent Striders are unreliable, and Fianna only think about drink.”

Owen chuckled. “Drink and boasting,” he corrected. And like that, the tension was gone.

She smirked. “I figured the boasting was a natural side effect of the drinking.”

“So if we can’t get outside help, what do we have left at our disposal?” Ray asked.

“Me, I guess,” Lily said. “Now, I’ve already tried jamming the mechanisms of these boxes and that conveyer system down below, but without being able to touch the machinery directly, there’s not much I can do. Even if I could, all that would happen is that it would shut down temporarily. It wouldn’t release us directly, but it might make it easier to get these boxes open.”

“If you were on the outside, is there anything else you can do?” their alpha asked.

“It definitely gives me more options. If I can find a control room or something of the like, it’ll be a cakewalk to figure out how it works. Computers and electronics are easier for me to work with than mechanical stuff directly.” She paused, looking thoughtful. “You know…that man…James seems to have a thing for me…”

“Lily, whatever you’re thinking, no,” Paige said sharply.

“Hear me out. I butter him up a bit, compliment him on his success on obtaining this fine collection, and see if I can get him to give me a tour. If I can get into his good graces, I can find a way to get us all out.”

“I don’t like this idea,” Ray said. “You’re Philodox, honest and fair to a fault. Leave subterfuge to the Ragabash.”

Owen held up his good hand. “Lily, I don’t like the thought of letting you out of our sight, especially with that…individual. Let’s…wait until they bring us the food they promised us, eat and get some rest. Have some time to think this over. If we can’t figure anything else out, I’ll give you my blessing. But I want it to be a last resort. And I mean it this time, not like what I did outside at the start of all this.” He looked directly into her eyes. “I can’t do wrong by any of you again.” They all nodded silently, and Lily gave him a small smile. “And Paige, after they feed us, I want you to see if you can find whatever Wyrm creatures were tracked here.”

“I hope they do so soon,” she replied.

They did not have to wait much longer, thankfully. The doors opened again and Donatu entered with six robots in tow. One of them was pushing a metal cart laden with raw meat. “Are the doggies hungry?” he asked them mockingly. “Collectible 2379-A, stand back from the window,” one robot commanded. Ray almost didn’t until he saw several of the other robots charging up energy. He immediately skittered back to a corner. The front of the box lifted up, and a robot entered carrying a tray of meat. Paige noticed Lily’s eyes brighten when the window of the box moved. Now that the Glass Walker knew where the way out was, she could start formulating a plan. Ray eyed the meat eagerly but remained still until the robot had exited and the window lowered again. The second it was shut, he shifted to wolf and pounced on the platter, practically inhaling the bloody flesh.

The process was repeated in much the same way for the rest of the pack. Lily was only slightly reluctant to feed. Night-of-Song could feel the healing process suddenly accelerate as she got the protein and calories her body demanded. The robots left soon after, but Donatu stood there, watching them for some time. “Some monsters you are. You have not even scratched the glass since we were away,” he said before taking his leave as well.

The second Lily finished her food, she shifted and raced over to the water bowl to scrub furiously at the blood now on her face. When she turned back to them, however, she was excited. “The boxes aren’t solid!”

 _Of course they aren’t. How else would they have gotten us in here?”_ Ray growled, licked his jaws. _“But how did they get it to open? I didn’t see any keys being used.”_

“It must be some sort of remote control system. I’m guessing that robot can transmit a signal code to a receiver on the cage someplace to command it to open and close,” she mused. 

Owen shifted back as well. He wiped a hand across his mouth, only smearing the blood across his cheeks instead of cleaning it away. “Could you take control of one of them to get these boxes open?”

“I could if I wasn’t already caught inside of one. I can only override them if I can touch one,” she said, shaking her head. “And I’d still have to figure out what signals they’re using to get our boxes open. I’d hate to use the wrong code and let something else out instead of us.”

“Are there other ways of transmitting that code?” “Potentially, but it would take some time. I’d have to find the right materials to make and program a remote, but I still wouldn’t know the proper code to let us out. Crafting some sort of crude device could cause more harm than good,” she answered.

 _“Would a remote like that already exsist?”_ Night-of-Song asked.

“One might…I’d bet that James guy would have it! Owen, you have to left me try to get it from him!”

Owen frowned. “I still don’t like this idea. Too much can go wrong.”

“I know, but what other choice do we have? Trust me, I can do this,” she pressed.

The Fianna pinched the bridge of his nose. “Alright. The next time James comes in here, you can try to get on his good side.” He ignored the little fist pump Lily gave. “Paige, could you slip into the Umbra and find out what those fomori are?”

_“Certainly. Swift-Foot, will you accompany me?”_

The other wolf looked at her in surprise. _“Are you sure you want me? I’ve been a mess ever since we were caught.”_

 _“I’m sure. Besides, getting out of your head for a bit might help,”_ Night-of-Song answered, giving him a wolf-grin.

 _“Bad pun,”_ he growled. _“But I’m in.”_

“I wish you both luck,” Owen said. “I’ll call you back if anything here changes.”

Night-of-Song dipped her head to him and laid down. While using reflective surfaces allowed her spirit to pass through with a guarantee of being undetected, she could more than likely do it without the additional assistance. She shut her eyes, slowed her breathing, and released herself from her physical form. She had to push harder against the ties that bound her to her body than she normally would with the assistance of a mirror, but she worked her way through them and into the lower spirit realm without much hassle. Getting out of the box was a bit trickier. She had to weave her way between the webs without touching them. It she disturbed a strand, she ran the risk of calling the Weaver’s children upon her, and she didn’t feel like dealing with any spiderlings today.

She made it out of her box and into Swift-Foot’s. The Strider was also prone, but his anxiety was making it hard for him to make the transition. Night-of-Song gently grasped the scruff of his neck with her teeth and pulled. _“Come on, brother. We have work to do,”_ she told him.

With her coaxing, he finally made the shift into the Umbra. _“Thank you, sister.”_ He shook himself and looked around, cringing at the sheer magnitude of webs over everything. _“This place is a disaster!”_ he growled.

_“Tell me about it. Let’s go. I don’t want to look at this for any longer than I have to.”_

Together they slipped between the white strands of his box and began moving downwards. They tried to follow a similar path to the one they had felt when their boxes were being moved up to that banquet hall. They needn’t have worried though. The below-ground complex was vast enough that they could have gone outside to the property line and still have found it. Without their physical forms impeding their senses, they could feel the evil and hate that infested the place so much easier. Their initial assessment of the place being spirit-free was incorrect. Bane spirits flowed about, happily feeding on the misery they found. These lesser banes avoided the two werewolves, knowing full well that if they got too close, they would more than likely be torn apart. Besides, the suffering of the other creatures were more than enough for them. They had no reason to interfere with the two garou in their midst. It was harder for Night-of-Song and Swift-Foot to ignore them. Their instincts demanded that they hunt these banes, but they were on a mission and had to suppress the desire to kill the evil spirits. Starting a fight would only slow them down, and as weak as these particular banes were, there were enough that they’d probably win if they decided to swarm the garou.

Instead the pair tuned their senses towards finding fomori, those poor souls who had a bane invading their body. It didn’t take long for Swift-Foot to find several. Two humanoid fomori were being kept in adjacent boxes. The bane-ridden humans had been viciously twisted by the invading spirits. The skin on one was dry and cracked, almost scaly. It had lost most of its hair and stood with a pronounced hunch to its back. Its fingers and toes sported long black claws that appeared to have torn through the flesh, and it had a severely deformed tail growing from the base of its spine.

The one across from the lizard-like fomor couldn’t have been more opposite. Its consistency was gelatinous, with slimy skin and webbed fingers and toes. Its eyes bulged out of its head and blinked out of sync with each other. The toad-like fomor sported boils along its back that seemed to be filled with a yellowish liquid that sloshed about as it breathed. The fomori sensed the presence of the garou and immediately began shrieking and clawing at the glass of their boxes. Night-of-Song and Swift-Foot quickly backed away from them, hoping the racket they were making wouldn’t cause anyone to come down and investigate. 

The Uktena found the next pair of fomori. One was an aughisky, a bane-ridden horse. Its coat was pure black and oily, mane and tail both stringy. Its hooves had been split into three different toes, each tipped with a long talon. The horse’s head had been deformed into something more canine, with fangs so long it couldn’t properly shut its mouth. 

The other had been a wild boar. Now the beast had mutated to be three times its original size and was thickly muscle-bound. The skin and flesh were absent from its face, leaving behind a gleaming white skull that had an additional pair of tusks just behind the main set, and teeth sharpened to a point. Ruby-red eyes with tiny black pupils glared out at the world with hate and hunger.

 _“Are any of these what your Tribe tracked in?”_ Swift-Foot asked. 

_“I believe the once-human fomori are what they tracked. But when I prodded this place yesterday, I felt something much-”_

A thundering roar interrupted her. Together they raced towards the source of the sound. They found a box, much larger than the rest, with a group of those robots in front of it. Four of them were arcing electricity at the box’s inhabitant, keeping it back while several others inspected the box for damage, cleaned it, and laid out food for the creature. They quickly backed out and the electricity ceased. The box shut, but not before a pale, fleshy tail snapped out and grabbed a robot, pulling it inside just as the window slammed shut. The tail snapped the robot’s body in two immediately, then quickly stuffed it into the owner’s gaping, toothy maw. It swallowed the broken machine whole and coiled its worm-like body happily around the mound of food that had been left for it, devouring that for dessert.

The garou were horrified. These insane, idiotic people were keeping a Thunderwyrm. Of sure, it was just a hatchling, barely over forty feet in length. But they grew fast, especially if they were eating a lot. Hatchlings were voracious and would eat anything they could, unhinging their jaws like snakes to swallow whatever they found. They could digest anything, but living creatures were their favorite meal. If this thing were to reach maturity, there’d be containing it in a box or anything else.

Night-of-Song groaned. _“This just got so much worse.”_


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead yet. 
> 
> Terribly sorry about the delay. Had a combination of increased workload, holidays, birthdays, injuries, and numerous other stressors that kept me away from my writing. Plus I had to figure out what I needed to do to get where I needed to go in this story. I cannot tell you how many times I rewrote this and how much I waffled over events. 
> 
> I sort of feel like this chapter is a slight step back from the main story, but I think the events here needed to happen before I could continue to the next point in the journey. I also don't know how long it will be until the next time I can update. Hopefully not as long, but my job is still demanding more of my time than usual. It should settle down soon. 
> 
> Oh, and the little lullaby is out of my own head. It doesn't have a set melody that goes with it, so feel free to make up your own little tune.

“They’ve got a THUNDERWYRM?!” Owen roared.

“Shh, not so loud, or Jimmy’s gonna get upset,” Ray scolded.

“‘Jimmy’?” Paige said in disbelief. She had shifted to human the moment she got back to her body and now stood leaning against the front corner of her box with her arms wrapped around her sides. The rage and fear that had spiked through the pack bonds was making her feel ill.

“Yeah, that’s th’ nickname fer James, right?”

“Well, yeah, it is, but why are you calling him ‘Jimmy’?”

“‘Cause I don’t respect ‘im.”

“Fair. Just don’t let him hear you say it. He’s unstable enough to not know how to take a joke,” she said before turning her attention back to their alpha. “But yeah, a juvenile Thunderwyrm. It’s going to be a problem.”

“Ya don’t say?” Ray snarked.

“Quiet!” Owen snarled. He was paced in front of his window, flesh and metal fists clenching and unclenching. If Paige wasn’t mistaken, it looked like the metal was beginning to spread up his arm. It was past his wrist now, and was also becoming more formed. Instead of the ugly jagged lump it had been when she first saw it, the metal was slowly adopting a more hand-like shape. That didn’t comfort her at all. It was like it was slowly consuming him, and replacing him. “I had been hoping we could get out of here and try infiltrating with a better plan, but if there’s a ThunderWyrm here, we don’t have the luxury of time. So Lily, yes, when James returns, you need to try to get into his good graces. I need you to get him to take you out of that box, show you how the place works, and find a way to get us out and to that Wyrmling so we can destroy it.”

“I can try, but the noise of us fighting it will surely get someone’s attention. If we set off some sort of alarm, it’s all over,” Lily said.

“I don’t care,” he growled. “That thing needs to be destroyed more than anything else. He can keep his bane-ridden pets for all I care. That Thunderwyrm has to go before it gets any bigger.”

Lily’s head jerked back, startled by their alpha’s response. Paige’s eyes narrowed. Owen hadn’t been so aggressive in the past, nor so single-minded. Even though they hadn’t known each other personally for long, his reputation preceded him. He was known for being fair and deeply concerned for the well-being of his packmates.

Lily quickly dipped her head. “Of course, you’re right,” she said, hiding the tremor in her voice. “I’ll do my best.”

“Lily, you want me to follow you through th’ Umbra? I can feed ya’ lines to use,” Ray offered. His voice was unusually soft and sincere. “You’re too honest, and lying is second nature to me.”

She nodded, relief plain on her face. “That would be –”

“No,” Owen said, cutting Lily off. “Paige and Ahote are both tired from travelling the Umbra, and I can’t have another wolf not up to snuff if things go wrong.”

Ray suddenly rounded on Owen.  “That’s enough out of you. I’m not leaving her unattended with that moron of a human. So unless you’d like to keep watch over her, I’m going!” he snapped, a growl deepening his voice.

Owen snarled in reply, eyes flashing orange. His body bulked up, teeth lengthening into fangs and nails growing into claws. He didn’t seem to notice the fresh blood that dribbled from the seam between metal and skin. “How dare you challenge your alpha! If we weren’t separated by these damn walls, you wouldn’t be so quick to undermine me! Coward!” He slammed both fists into the glass hard enough to split open the knuckles of his still-flesh hand. He snarled again, glaring at them with hate in his eyes.

“Undermining? I’m just pointing out that you’re being an idiot!” Ray growled. “Where’s your concern, oh great alpha? When did you stop caring?”

“I never stopped, dog!” Owen spat out the words. The slur startled Ray, shock and hurt in his eyes. Owen didn’t seem to notice. “I care about our mission. The Phoenix put me in charge, not you, so you’ll do as I say! All of you!” Fur was appearing on his arms and cheeks, ears beginning to lengthen.

“Stop!” Lily cried, covering her ears. “Stop it, both of you! Things are bad enough as it is without our pack fighting each other! I can take care of myself, and if things go wrong, I can always get to you through the pack bonds! Just…we have to work together if we’re going to get anything done.”

Both Ray and Owen glowered at each other before Ray turned away, stalking to a far corner to sit and stew. Owen continued to glare at the Ragabash’s back before angrily stomping around his box. “If I say we should take of the Thunderwyrm, then that’s what we do, no questions asked,” Owen snarled. “I know what’s best, that’s why I’m alpha. We should be getting results, not sitting here twiddling our thumbs. Maybe you aren’t used to action, but I am,” he continued to spit at Ray.

The Bone Gnawer wouldn’t even look at him. He just kept his forehead pressed firmly against the metal walls of the corner. His shoulders were shaking slightly. Swift-Foot whined plaintively, and Paige once more took hold of her bond to him, gently curling around it. She stretched the same comfort to Lily, who seemed surprised.

“They need it more than I do,” she said softly, nodding towards Owen and Ray.

Paige shook her head. “Ray doesn’t want it, and Owen won’t accept it,” she replied. She felt despair come through Lily’s bond. It was killing the Philodox for the pack to be out of balance and to not be able to fix it. The Galliard wasn’t feeling much better about it. Owen losing control of his form was a bad sign, a signal that he was rapidly approaching a Frenzy. Frenzied garou lost all logic, both human and wolf, and ran purely on the instinct to survive if the Frenzy was born of fear, or to kill if it was born from rage. It wasn’t unheard of for Frenzied werewolves to attack families, allies, even pack. She was almost happy that they were separated by seemingly indestructible walls, but there was no telling what he might be able to do to himself just trying to get out. She shuddered, looking at the blood on the glass from his knuckles. He could kill himself trying to break through that glass. Frenzied wolves stopped for very little. They continued until they became too exhausted or injured to continue, or died.

Paige gathered herself up, pushing away the fear and confusion of Ray, Lily, and Swift-foot. They couldn’t handle their alpha. She wasn’t sure she could either, but she was their best candidate. Galliards could affect the emotions of those around them. Usually they boosted morale and power during battle, and delight and peace at gatherings. Perhaps she could force some humility into Owen. Anything to break down some of his anger. Or perhaps sleep would be better…It did offer her another path for getting through to him.

“Owen,” she said flatly. The Fianna snarled at her, snapping his jaws threateningly. “Owen,” she repeated, more forcefully. “Look at me.”

“You’re gonna order me around too?” he growled.

“Yes, I am. Because you’re not in charge anymore.”

“How dare you!” He finally stopped pacing to swing his head to look at her. His wild orange eyes met hers, and she forced herself not to flinch. Showing fear or anger would only drive him further over the edge.

“I think you need some rest,” Paige said evenly, not blinking as she stared Owen down. He hadn’t moved since locking eyes with her. He stood there, panting heavily, but that was all. He was waiting for her to make her move, and she took the opening. “So much stress and uncertainty and pain. You should give yourself some time to collect your thoughts before you do something you will later regret.” His lips twitched around his bared fangs, but he still didn’t break eye contact. Notes rose up within her throat, and the Galliard allowed them out, adding words as she felt them come.

_“Hush, great wolf, put your claws away,_

_Hide your fangs, you are done today._

_Let anger slip, find peace within._

_There are no fights here to begin.”_

Sleep would do him good, whether or not she could get through to him in his dreams. She wove magic into the sweet melody, coiling it around the bond to Owen. Paige felt a sickness beneath his anger. He was almost feverish from it. She ignored the shock from that realization and continued singing.

_“Lay down, great wolf, relax and breathe._

_Shadow’s fallen upon the heath._

_Mother Gaia and pack are here._

_So for now, there’s little to fear.”_

Owen’s form had become fully human once more as she sang. He still didn’t break eye contact with Paige, but he had moved backward until his back hit the wall. He slid down it to sit, still staring into her eyes. She could see desire in his eyes, the craving for reprieve from the nightmare he was in. She could see that the hate he had shown earlier was not his, and that even he was frightened of it. She’d help him to let go, just for a little while.

_“Sleep, great wolf, time to dream and heal._

_Rage no more, find comfort ideal._

_May you find what you need to fight,_

_And bring that back to make things right.”_

As the final note faded away, Owen’s eyes finally slid shut. His breathing deepened gradually, and the fur, fangs, and claws receded as he slipped into unconsciousness. The others were staring at her. She tried not to blush. Performing in front of others wasn’t a problem for her, it couldn’t be for a good Galliard, but inventing a lullaby to put an alpha to sleep was a bit embarrassing.

“What’s gotten into ‘im?” Ray asked after several heartbeats. His voice was quiet, as if he was afraid to break the silence.

Lily was shaking, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes. “It’s the Green Matter. It has to be.”

Paige turned to her. “What _is_ Green Matter? You and James speak of it with…reverence.”

She sighed heavily. “It’s an energy source. An unstable one at that. Glass Walkers have known about it and it’s counterpart, Blue Matter, for a while now. Green Matter can power machines, but if it comes into contact with living matter, it twists it, consumes it. It’s mindless and destructive.”

 _“His arm,”_ Swift-foot whined.

“Yes. It’s devouring him, making him single-minded and angry,” Lily sniffled.

Paige shuddered. “What of this Blue Matter? Is it even worse?” Lily shook her head. “No. It’s still not the most stable thing out there, but…You saw those Green Matter robots, just machines designed to take orders and complete them. Well, there’s a handful of automatons out there that are powered by Blue Matter, and the difference is...incredible. Those with Blue Matter are alive. They think for themselves, have emotions, and they can write songs and sing them.”

Paige perked up at that. Mechanical Galliards? “Really?”

Lily nodded emphatically. “Oh yes, and their music is wonderful! I’m surprised you haven’t heard of them, Songkeeper yourself. Unless…you don’t listen to modern music?” She looked sheepish.

Paige smiled gently at the younger garou. “I do. I try to pick up as much culture as I can. I find knowing a wide variety of legends and songs can be quite handy. Continue.”

Lily beamed despite the situation. “You’d never know they weren’t flesh and blood. I’ve always wanted to see a live performance, but I’ve yet to get a break from our…day job. I’m so sorry that you met those monstrosities instead of the members of Steam Powered Giraffe. I think you’d like them so much, Paige.” She looked down. “Instead, now you’re going to be jaded by what those Green Matter robots did…”

Like all good Uktena, the thought of thinking, creative, musical entities spurred Paige’s curiosity, and talking about them seemed to bolster Lily’s mood, which was a plus. “Tell me more about this Steam Powered Giraffe. Such a fascinating name they have given themselves.”

Lily brightened once more and immediately launched into the history of the robotic band. Swift-foot and Ray listened politely, but they clearly weren’t terribly interested. Paige, however, drank in the knowledge being shared. Lily was no storyteller, but her enthusiasm made up for her lack of finesse. She spoke of a rivalry between two scientists sparked by love, that one chose to work with the unstable Green Matter to power a copper elephant driven by a pilot while the other used the relatively safer Blue Matter in a giant steam-powered giraffe to try to outshine him, and began working on singing automatons to boot. Each tried to one-up the other, but before either could profess their love, the woman they both secretly loved died. Heartbroken, the man who worked with Blue Matter threw himself into his work and inventions, creating truly living robots. The other was equally heartbroken, but he instead turned to violence and craved power to fill up the void in his heart. He had seen that Green Matter could meld flesh to metal and could seemingly reanimate the dead. Believing he had found a way to revive his love, he created an army to storm the mines to collect more Green Matter. The other was forced into retrofitting his own creations for war to stop his crazed rival. It was a brutal war, but they put an end to the Green Matter user’s army. Eventually, those Blue Matter automatons were able to return to making music, just as they were meant to, but had still assisted in other wars, protecting and saving soldiers. These Blue Matter automatons remained caring and kind, even after seeing the worst of the humanity. They never let go of the good.

At the end, Lily blushed deeply. “So for nerding out for so long,” she said sheepishly.

Paige smiled warmly at her. “No worries. I also get lost when telling my stories. But it’s good to know the history behind this stuff.”

Most of the names and technical terms were lost on Paige, as she was too busy envisioning unrequited love and a battle-torn plain, and applying the history lesson to their current predicament. This Green Matter had made a man of science and logic bitter, aggressive, and wholly consumed with one thought. The same symptoms Owen was exhibiting.

“Have th’ Glass Walkers attempted to do anything with either energy source?” Ray asked.

Lily shook her head. “Certainly not with Green Matter, and Blue has also been off limits since its discovery. Not much has been done with it aside from powering the singing musical automatons, so the elders have held off from dabbling too much with it. The man who discovered it thought to be part of what is holding reality together, and seeing as how some of us can be…overzealous, we’d rather not accidentally tear what we live in apart.”

“Fair ‘nough,” Ray conceded with a nod.

They lapsed into silence, each chewing on their own thoughts. Owen needed to know this, Paige decided. Maybe he could figure out a way to overcome the Green Matter poisoning if he knew what happened and what he was going through.

“So what happens now?” Ray asked after a moment, looking over at the sleeping alpha.

“Now I try to help him get better,” Paige said. “Try not to disturb us. I don’t want to mess this up and make things worse.”

She moved to the front corner of her box closest to the sleeping werewolf and got as comfortable as she could while still keeping him within her sight. She deepened into her unconsciousness as though she was about to enter the Umbra, but stopped just short of that. She’d still have to remain aware just enough to make sure her eyes remained open and fixed on Owen. Closing her eyes, even blinking, would sever her connection to him while she attempted to dream-walk.

In her mind’s eye, she saw her pack bonds. It helped to visualize things if she was going to attempt to enter someone’s dreams. She saw herself as a pillar of stone. The type of stone changed regularly based on her mood, and currently it was made of ametrine. She ignored the pang from seeing the pile of faded cords at the base of the pillar. Those were past bonds. Cleanly severed ties where from packs she had been in and left amicably. The snapped and frayed cords were of those who died. Instead, she focused on the four, brightly colored cords that were tied around the pillar, each of which extended out into the distance. These were her current pack bonds.

The purple one went to Ray. He’d probably think it odd for her to have assigned the color of nobility to a Bone Gnawer, but she felt that he carried himself with dignity enough to make up for his…humble status. Lily’s was darkish teal. Paige had always found that particular shade of blue-green to be calming, but teal was also a color that couldn’t quite decide what it wanted to be. It was a good representative for the peace-loving Philodox who still had trouble coming to terms with her wolfishness. Ahote’s cord was the color of desert sand at sunset, a rich earthy red to go with the wolf that traveled it. The final cord was dark, velvety green. This one belonged to Owen and was the one she focused in on.

Paige imagined her wolf-self padding alongside the green cord. She let her fur brush against it as she moved ever closer to Owen’s mind. She was pleased that his emotions had settled down in his sleep, but the closer she got, the more her pelt prickled. There was still turmoil beneath the calm. If he couldn’t find complete peace even in his sleep, what would that mean for their alpha? Would they get dragged down by him? Would they have to sever ties with him and leave him to spiral into madness alone? She shook her head. Bringing in more uncertainty to Owen’s troubled mind wouldn’t do anyone any good.

A shiver went through Night-of-Song as she entered Owen’s subconscious. His mind had placed him in a small log cabin. It was cozy, with a pleasant fire crackling away in the hearth. Outside, however, a storm raged, lashing rain against the small window. Owen sat before the fireplace in a rocking chair, though he was leaned forward and staring intently into the flames. The wolf coughed politely, making the man start, then turn to her with a grin.

“I thought I felt a disturbance in the force,” he said, holding out a hand. “Welcome to my mind, Paige.”

“ _Really? Star Wars?”_ Regardless, she rubbed her head against his hand. _“Also, you need to stop referring to Swift-foot and I by our human names while we are in wolf form. It doesn’t bother me much, but it really irritates him.”_

“My apologies. Why did he not say anything sooner?”

 _“He doesn’t feel it is his place to correct an alpha.”_ She shifted to human, standing over the seated man. “I, however, don’t seem to have that problem.” He raised an eyebrow at her, but said nothing. “What’s going on with you? You’re all over the map.”

The other eyebrow raised as he leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. Somehow, even though she was standing over him, he was still intimidating. “What do you mean? I know my fuse has been a bit shorter than usual, but I don’t see how that would warrant you entering my dreams to speak with me.”

Paige resisted the urge to cross her arms. Best not to appear like she was antagonizing him until she fully understood his mindset. “Would you knowingly order one of us into a dangerous situation by ourselves?”

His tipped his head to the side. “It depend entirely on who it was and what situation.”

“Then let me rephrase. Would you send Lily out to see if she could woo some answers out of James without sending some sort of backup to keep en eye on her?”

He reeled back in his chair, looking offended. “No. She’s young, surprisingly so for a Silver Pack, even if Phoenix selected her. Not to mention we don’t know enough about him and this place to know if she would be safe for certain. If I had my druthers, I’d want someone with her at all times on this side of the Veil. But I’d have someone at least follow her through the Umbra so we’d know right away if things went downhill.”

“But you said that it would be a detriment to the pack if Ray followed her and fed her lines. That we were weak enough as it was without tiring him out too,” she said.

His eyes widened in a mix of anger and horror as he suddenly bolted up from his chair. “What? No! Not to put down her skills, but her strengths lie in her mechanical and computer know-how, not in her fighting ability. She’d become overwhelmed easily in a fight if she was on her own. Hell, I don’t want any of you out there by yourself, regardless of fighting prowess. I don’t want any of us to be alone in the unknown.”

Paige held up her hands in a placating manner. “I know, I know. I’m just telling you what you said. And you were so angry. I had to forcibly put you to sleep before you completely lost control.”

He turned from her and looked out the window. After a moment, he sighed, shoulders sagging. “Something is wrong with me. I keep having these horrible thoughts. I try not to entertain them, but they’re incessant. Things like I have to strip the weak from the pack…like you are all holding me back…like I must wage war now, consequences be damned. I’m no stranger to such thoughts, Ahroun blood runs hot, but reason and loyalty always wins out. I’m an alpha, and while the responsibility to complete the mission given to us belongs to all of us, the pack’s safety and well-being is mine alone.” He looked back at her. “This pack is important to me. Every single one of you is important to me. The wolf in me keeps my ambitions in check. I’ve never had to fight myself this hard before. And now…I’m being told that I lost to myself.”

Paige bowed her head. “I’m sorry for invading with such bad news.”

“No, no,” Owen said, holding up a hand. “It’s good you brought this to my attention, as distressing as it is. Do you or the others have any idea why my control is slipping?”

“Lily says it’s something about Green Matter, from that robot you punched out. The Glass Walkers have apparently known about it for a while. She can explain it better than I can. But apparently in addition to fusing that metal to you, it’s also twisting your emotions. It’s making you angry, impulsive, removing your better judgments.”

He nodded as he absorbed this. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.” Both of them stared into the fire for a moment. “I think I have been at rest for long enough. I have some apologizing to do. You’d best get out of here before I wake up. I’d hate for you to get trapped here,” Owen finally said with a smirk.

“Wouldn’t happen, but as you wish. And…sorry. For jumping in here as well as staring you down, telling you off, and putting you down for a nap.”

“No, you were right to do so. As you said, I wasn’t in charge, even though I didn’t understand that you meant I wasn’t in charge of myself.”

“Oh, you do remember. Lovely,” Paige said.

“Yeah, that and being an ass to Ray.”

She shrugged. “He’ll forgive you. Eventually. I think." The easy banter soothed her. At least he seemed a little more like himself. "See you in a bit, sleeping beauty.” Paige turned and walked through the wall she had come in from, out of Owen’s dream, and followed the bond back to herself.

She shut her eyes as she groaned and stretched, resettling into her body. She rubbed her closed eyes hard, encouraging her tear ducts to kick into overdrive. She hadn’t been in Owen’s subconscious for long, perhaps a few minutes, but it was still long enough for her eyes to become painfully dry. It was why she absolutely hated dream-walking and avoided it as much as possible.

Lily and Swift-foot both looked confused, but Ray just blinked lazily at her. “Mission accomplished?” he asked dryly.

“More or less,” Paige grunted, eyes still shut. She was syncing up the memories of the dream-walk with what her physical body had experienced. Fortunately it was nothing more than irritatingly dry eyes and the sound of nervous shifting from the other garou as they watched the bizarre one-sided staring contest she had been engaged in. Still, it was tricky to converse while matching up memories. “He’ll be awake shortly, and you can ask him yourself,” she added, perhaps a little more tersely than she meant.

She kept her eyes closed, reveling in that oft-overlooked luxury of eyelids, as the others shuffled around to better see the Fianna, who was indeed beginning to stir. She listened to him rise, stretch, and pace along the window a few times before he stopped. She could feel the tense curiosity of the others as Owen looked at each of them, studying them.

“My pack,” he finally said, voice strangely soft and gentle. “It appears that I have lost some of my sanity as a side effect of this.” He lightly tapped the glass with his metal hand. “I owe each of you a deep apology. Ray, I should not have threatened you or insulted you for doing nothing more than standing up to my insanity. Lily, I should never have even contemplated putting you in harm’s way. Aho-I mean, Swift-foot, I should have been more sensitive to your feelings.” He sighed. “And Paige, I have wronged you by over-looking you.”

She shook her head, eyes still shut. “You haven’t wronged me, Owen.”

“But I have. I haven’t formally recognized your contributions to this pack. I wish to right this before we go any further. Paige Night-of-Song, I wish to make you my second-in-command in this Silver Pack.”

Her eyes popped open in shock. Seconds weren’t unheard of in temporary packs, but they were rare. The true purpose of a second was to fill in for the Alpha should things go wrong, a back-up for leadership. This was a position generally unneeded in a temporary pack, like a Silver Pack. They formed, served their purpose, and usually then disbanded. They were not large enough nor did they exist long enough to require the safe-guard.

Paige stared at him incredulously. Her mind struggled for words. “S-second?” she finally squeaked out. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Owen, I’m not so certain I should be the one you offer this to. Traditionally, it should go to-”

“Traditionally, it would go to a Philodox or another Ahroun, I know. However, and I don’t wish to offend, Lily would not make for a good second in this situation. She has consistently yielded to my outbursts. On the other hand, Ray responds with anger, which is not the best way to deal with any tense situation, especially an unstable werewolf. And Swift-foot, who has been doing an admirable job controlling his fear, cannot divide his focus further.” Owen had nodded to each in turn, and the other garou each bowed their head in agreement. “But you, Paige, have stepped up multiple times now. You grounded Swift-foot when I couldn’t, made me listen when I wouldn’t. You’ve kept your control even amidst the turbulence around you.” He paused and then gave an amused snort. “And the additional status you gain within the pack will make me listen to you without you having to force me to sleep.”

Paige looked down and away, trying to hide the color in her cheeks. “Sorry again about that.”

The alpha ignored the remark, voice turning serious once more. “I cannot force you to accept, but I feel having a second within this pack will help us in the long-run.”

“Owen, I haven’t done anything that one of you wouldn’t do. If I was scared out of my mind and one of you could steady me, you would. If I was enraged, one of you would talk me down. That’s what packmates do,” Paige said.

“If I may,” Ray said, raising a hand. “While it’s true that it’s within our responsibilities to care for each other, you’ve shown a surprising aptitude for it. I have no ambitions for leadership here, so I understand your reluctance. But if Owen feels that he isn’t stable enough to be relied on, we need someone else to fall back on. I heckle more than help, so I’m a poor candidate.”

“And Owen’s right. I’m not an arbiter, but a counselor. I can’t speak out against him, especially when he is enraged like that,” Lily added. “I fear making things worse, but you don’t let that stop you the way I do. I trust you to help steady us.”

Swift-foot nodded, tail whisking gently back and forth. _“You steadied me when I lost myself. Your mere presence is helping me not to lose myself. If that isn’t what a leader does, than I don’t know what is.”_ He glanced sadly at Owen. _“And, should Owen’s condition…worsen…should he have to step down, I wouldn’t want to follow anyone but you, Sister.”_

Their alpha nodded gravely. “I can’t force you to accept, but you’ve heard what the others feel. What say you?” he asked, eyes on Paige.

Paige wasn’t an alpha. She wasn’t a leader outside of songs and dances. But she was needed. It’s just a title, she thought. You’re already doing the job, just accept the name.

“Owen Conway, with your blessing and the blessings of my packmates, I accept your offer to be the second-in-command of this pack,” Paige said, bowing deeply.

She was wrong. It wasn’t just a title. The moment the last word left her lips, she felt a massive shift in the pack bonds. She felt a sudden rush of power combined with the weight of trust and responsibility. She looked at the others in surprise. Lily, Ray, and Swift-foot were there, hers to command and protect. Owen’s gaze suddenly held respect and faith, hope that she would defend her wolves should he fail.

Paige stared at each of them, gasping for air, struggling through the thrill and shock she felt. Finally, one emotion floated to the top. “Mine,” she whispered. They were all hers, and she would die for them. Owen smiled knowingly. “Yes, yours.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I've tracked down all of the weird formatting errors that get made when I transfer in the text. I'm sure I'll find more later. 
> 
> Oh, and I hope everyone had a Happy Yulemas and will have a good year.


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